Decisions
by squeekness
Summary: Now that the new Siskans have settled in, it's time for the Xmen to decide what to do with them. Part seven of the Game.
1. Chapter 1

Summary: Now that the new Siskans have settled in, it's time for the X-men to decide what to do with them. Part seven of the Game.

Rated M for profanity, violence and some sexual content.

Disclaimer : I do not own the X-men or any of their associated villains, but the Siskans, the Dognan, Jael and the Outkasts are mine. Please do not use them without my permission. Thanks. :)

Art for Good Company has been added to my webpage if any one is interested in looking at it.

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(One)

"_There you go again, Dreamer," you say. " '_Paths, corrections_.' That melodrama again. Was it really so bad, seeing these things?"_

_Tsk. So very typical of one who has never lived through it themselves. Some people think that since I am Siskan and not organically alive, that I am incapable of feeling true human emotions. That simply is not the case. I am not only capable, but being Lushna-esk, I am often overwhelmed by them. _

_The most difficult emotion for me is love. So often it has been used against me or yanked away from me cruelly. It is hard for me to trust anyone. But sometimes, just sometimes, someone can manage to work their way into my stony little heart. A case in point, some time ago my sister brought home a special prize. _

_We had been living in the Plantation House for a great many years by then and Babette had been growing steadily restless. She had learned how to sneak out of the house without our Master knowing. I was never so driven to leave the property, I was too afraid that some terrible accident might befall me. But not Babette. She loved to go out and find fresh young human clients to play with. _

_One night, Babette had gone out clubbing and had met someone special. Somehow, she had even convinced Trishnar to let her bring him up to the house. While she told our Master the visit was for this young man to meet him, I know that she was really bringing him to see me. He was magnificent, that red and black eyed beauty she brought before me. I had seen him, you know, in a vision not three days before she had even spoken about him. The voices had much to say about him -- I learned that she would meet him and bring him home to see us, that he would be something special. At first I was cavalier about the whole thing. So what? My sister had loved many human men, what was this one to me? _

_But when I ever laid eyes on him for myself...Well, there are not words enough to express how lovely he was to me. _

_I know you think me a romantic idiot, but it wasn't just his good looks. I love those who share the Kundatesh and I could see it there, sparkling so brightly in his shine. Oh yes, it was a good thing I had come here with my Master. If I hadn't, I would have missed out on this little dish._

_I thought he would be easy to pursue, this Cajun thief wandering our halls with so much curiosity. He was human, yes, but so much more -- a mutant. I had heard of them on the television which, sadly, often gave the impression that mutants were creatures too horrible and evil to behold. Yet this one was so patient and kind, smiling and working his way through my Master's Siskan harem with much style and grace. If he was as bad as the televison had implied, this would not be happening, my Master was much too protective of us to put us in such danger._

_No, instead, this lovely stranger was having one heck of good time keeping us Siskans entertained, that was easy to see. He was impressive for a human, keeping up with us better than most, a real treat. The odd thing was, when I presented myself to him time and time again, he was shy of me, uncertain. I had figured he was simply sampling the others first and saving me for last. He must consider me something special indeed, a dessert to be savored after the meal. _

_I was unfortunately, quite mistaken. He resisted me at every turn, something most perplexing --- and yet, at the same time, endearing. The harder he made me work at it, the more I loved him for it._

_I could see that he wasn't well. He said he possessed a Siskan he loved greatly, but that Siskan had shattered horribly. He was here seeking advice on what to do with him. While I could see he was telling us the truth, there was more to it than that. His Siskan had touched him in some special way and changed him, gifting him with empathy. That power was now out of balance, this Kundatesh empathy not yet within his grasp. _

_This I could help him with quite easily and I had already understood that this was why he had been shown to me. In my visions I had seen him and yet when I refused the paths that brought me to him, I was "corrected." That meant only one thing -- if I did not help him, some sort of disaster was going to happen._

_And so I obeyed, not that that was any real hardship, mind you. When he finally gave in to me he proved to be every bit as delicious as I had anticipated. I helped him and he helped me. I had fallen into a sort of emotional rut, you see, thinking I could never really love again. I loved my Master, yes, but not even he could bring out in me the truly heartfelt devotion I was capable of. This quick tryst with Babette's red eyed lover had awakened a spark of life in me that I had not felt in years. I could bring myself to love someone of the flesh again. It was a good thing, for it wasn't long before my sister brought home another human I would grow to love with all my heart and soul. She brought home an Angel._

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Aiden jerked awake from another terrible nightmare, his chest heaving for air. The dreams had not diminished for him in this new place. They still came to him, now almost every time he slept. He hated this, dreaming the future and trying to work his way through things that might happen. He was tired of being so frightened, tired of being 'corrected' when he made mistakes. It's not like he needed the reminder that he wasn't perfect, he knew it well enough on his own.

Aiden was on Babette's bed as usual, his sister still fast asleep. She was becoming ever dependent on those tonics Henry was feeding her, an increasing concern — but not one for this moment. No, now all that mattered was air.

"Dreamin' again?"

Aiden turned to see Kimble seated on the bed next to him, his pale blue eyeslooking on him with such genuine concern and yet, a hint of sadness. The pilot still had not quite recovered from yesterday's unpleasant episode with Fallen.

"Yesz," Aiden replied. "Ze dreamsz, dey never sztop for me."

"They sounds bad. What didja sees?"

Aiden sat up and tried to assemble the raw jagged edges of himself into a picture of casual calm. "Szometimesz bad t'ingsz... szometimesz good."

Kimble's face crinkled into a smile. "An' the good things?"

"Alwaysz ze dreamsz of good, dey are dreamsz of play. Of love."

The pilot laughed at that, a dry snuffly chuckle, one that warmed Aiden's heart and made him forget the dream. He would think on it another time. One thing he had grown to love these past days was the lovely sound of that laugh. He would never get enough of it, never. Aiden rose, careful not to disturb his sister, and sat across from Kimble, desiring his company. He was well received, Kimble automatically gathered the cards and shuffled them before dealing them both a hand at poker.

Aiden sat mesmerized as Kimble's hands skillfully worked the cards. The pilot had years of excellent training at the hands of a master thief and card player. He knew all the games, the tricks. He was taking a moment to show off, flipping the cards about flamboyantly as he shuffled, eager to keep Aiden's attention on him. The Dreamer watched with rapt curiosity, seduced by Kimble's nearness and simply loving watching the pilot in action, the movements of his fingers, the soft tease of a smile on his lips. Kimble was enjoying being watched.

"Five card stud," Kimble announced as the game they would play, finishing his tricks and finally settling down enough to deal them both a hand.

"You will 'ave to explain, pleasze."

Kimble gave the rules, happy now to have some company, especially Aiden's. It was quiet now, late at night, and he'd been unable to sleep. There were the guards here of course, Rogue was only a few feet away and watching televison. Max was beside her, reading a newspaper, but his head was already starting to nod. A few minutes more and he will be on one of the beds, out cold asleep and not quite holding up his end. That was okay, the Siskans had given no trouble and he would be within easy reach if Rogue raised the alarm. Kimble had no desire to mingle with them and so had been over here waiting for Aiden to wake. Now that the Dreamer was here to play, Kimble's loneliness had vanished. All that was left was his curiosity.

Aiden looked up from his cards, Kimble was fidgeting. "Szumptin' wrong, preciousz?"

Soft blue eyes glanced up quickly, looked down. "Kin I asks ya sumpthin'?"

"Anyt'ing you want."

"Did Trishnar makes ya?"

Aiden smiled slightly. He'd been wondering when it was that Kimble was going to start asking him things. He was beginning to think something was wrong, he had been aching to have this conversation from the first time they had met. As it was, Kimble had taken three days to gather his courage. Perhaps it was their encounter in the testing room the previous day that had emboldened him.

"No, 'e did not. Quishnalay made usz. All of usz, even you," Aiden answered matter of factly and with perfect confidence. He knew this to be the truth.

Kimble shook his head. "No, Sheyman made me."

" 'E may 'ave told you zat, but it isz not true, my friend. All ze Sziszkansz in ze Game came from ze szame plaze. You an' me, we are bro'ders," Aiden declared with an arrogance that only absolute certainty could bring. In his mind clearly there was no doubt.

Kimble frowned, needing a little more. "How do ya knows fer shure?"

"Causze Aiden may 'ave been broken like you, but 'e have all of 'isz memoriesz, me. I t'ink, mebbe, you do not."

"No, I don't 'members everathin'," Kimble conceded and fell silent, pondering.

"Trishnar, 'e tell Remy about Quishnalay being ze Maker of usz when 'e come to szee my Maszter in New Orleansz," Aiden threw out cautiously, watching Kimble's face for any kind of distress. It could be hard, having all of your perceptions of the way things should be so suddenly changed. " 'E did not tell you disz?"

Kimble's frown grew a little deeper. "Remy didn't tells me much about when he gone ta see ya. Said yer Master told him how ta fix me. That wuz pretty much it."

Aiden brushed a stray lock of hair from his eyes, calculating how he should respond. He opted for the truth, something he felt his friend should not have been denied. "Your Maszter an' my Maszter, dey talk a long while. Aiden wasz dere when Remy firszt tell Trishnar about you. I remember ze sztory 'e tell, 'bout when ze two of you danczed in ze ship of your Misztreszz. 'E love dat very much, danzcing wit you."

Kimble couldn't help but smile, remembering that, it was his and Remy's first official meeting. It was shortly after the three X-men --- Henry, Wolverine and Gambit --- had been kidnapped from Earth and taken to Cerise. There, they met Fallen and her two Siskans. Kimble had been trying to teach Fallen to dance and she wasn't doing very well. Remy had cut in to dance with Kimble and their long friendship had been born. "He toldja abouts that?" Kimble asked in wonder, his eyes merry and filled with love for his former Master.

"Yesz. 'E tell Trishnar disz szo my Maszter would undersztand dat you were special. 'E want szo much to szay to Trishnar dat you not a machine, ze way szome **Chuckfet** t'ink of usz."

"What's **Chuckfet?**" Kimble asked, still warm from the happy things Aiden was saying. It pleased Kimble to know that Remy thought such nice things about him, better still that he would say them to someone else. It was a confirmation of Remy's love from an outside source. The fact that Aiden knew such an obscure tale only confirmed that he was not lying and added to his credibility.

Aiden was explaining, "**Chuckfet**, it isz a Muzla word meaning 'of ze flesh.' It isz 'ow Aiden t'inksz of 'dosze dat are not like usz."

Kimble nodded thoughtfully, not fully aware that the term was a derogatory word and not just a catchphrase. "Why wuz it so important fer Remy ta talk to yer Master like that about me?"

"Causze Remy t'ink Trishnar like 'im -- a Maszter dat care about 'isz Sziszkansz."

"Wuz Trishnar nice to ya?"

"Yesz, I szuppoze. 'E did not beat me or szay mean t'ingsz."

"But?" Kimble asked, hearing something in Aiden's voice.

Aiden squinted, not sure how to say what he felt. " 'E didn't szee me asz equal."

"Why would he? He wuz yer Master," Kimble said simply.

Aiden scowled. "And what give 'im ze right to be my Maszter in ze firszt plaze, neh?"

Kimble blinked up at him in confusion, not sure how to respond. He really hadn't thought about things like that. "Oh," he stammered awkwardly, needing to answer in some way. These things were so far from what he had thought was normal. The truth was, if Jael came to claim him, he wouldn't have run like Aiden had. He would have followed like a lamb to the slaughter, he knew it. Aiden was so very different.

Aiden understood this and wanted to explain, to bring Kimble just a little more into his world. He lay his cards down and shifted, getting more comfortable. "Liszten, eh? You an' Aiden, we alive. We don't 'ave ze flesh, but szo fuckin' what? What givesz Remy or Trishnar or anyone elsze ze right to decide anyt'ing for usz? We are not chil'ren. We are men juszt asz much as zey are. Aiden already deczide, Trishnar ze laszt **Chuckfet** to ever own me. From now on, no one ownsz Aiden but Aiden."

Kimble wasn't sure what to make of that, so he asked, "What wuz Quishnalay like?"

There was moment's pause where Aiden's shine swirled out of his control, a mixture of black hate and a grey swirling of mental agony. Pain, suffering, and betrayal shimmered brightly there before Aiden's powerful will squashed them and banished them away as though they had never been. "Quishnalay make usz all. Den 'e szcatter usz to ze wind juszt for ze amuszement of it. For ze profit."

Kimble shuddered, more from the pain he'd seen than Aiden's words. "He wuz a bad Master?"

"All ze Mastersz bad. Not a one of zem any good. Dere will never be ano'der one for me," Aiden declared, a fierce glow of arrogant pride surging there.

"Siskans need Masters to be happy," Kimble insisted, still confused. Here it was again, a breaking of what Kimble understood to be the rules. More and more he was discovering that Aiden operated well out of the bounds of what he had taken for granted. Aiden ran from Jael instead of allowing the ownership to pass. Aiden disliked fleshly creatures, those he was meant to serve. Now Aiden was proclaiming his freedom from slavery. It was all so thrilling and unsettling at once. More than Kimble could handle.

"Non," Aiden replied firmly. "No Masztersz for usz ever again. All we need isz disz." He leaned forward and gave Kimble a kiss, a soft brush of the lips, the faint hint of his tongue, sweet and light enough to tease. It was enough to make Kimble shiver with unfulfilled need, an easy way to change the subject.

"I likes that," Kimble whispered as Aiden withdrew, his eyes locked on those of the Dreamer and seeing nothing else.

A gentle spreading of that arrogant teasing smile. "Aiden knowsz. We will be gone from disz room szoon enough. Zen you will szee what ze Dreamer can do for you, eh? Make you shiver!"

Kimble shuddered with bright hot lust, he just couldn't help it. How could one kiss and a simple phrase make him feel so crazy? It was so exciting and shivery here with Aiden so close, so very near and warm, within easy reach. The attraction between them hung heavy in the air, a living thing with a power all its own. It was an ache in Kimble's gut, he wanted Aiden's hands on him so badly.

Aiden saw it and snickered, backing up and giving Kimble some room to breathe. He was proud of Kimble's response, happy that the pilot seemed so easy to rouse. At least that part of him had not been damaged. He decided to cut Kimble some slack and changed the subject again, "Did Aiden tell you dat Remy love my sziszter Babette much when 'e sztay wit usz?"

Kimble shook his head. "He didn' talk much about that."

"Yesz, 'e szpend moszt of 'isz time wit 'er. She ze one to 'elp 'im moszt wit ze Kundatesh."

"You used that word before. What's that?"

Aiden grumbled a little in complaint. "Didn' Remy tell you anyt'ing? Ze Kundatesh, it'sz disz," he said, closing his eyes and sending out a strong vibration of desire, one that was just as good as that quick grope in the testing room.

Kimble cried out at that, gasping like a late sleeper splashed with ice cold water, and almost toppled off the bed in shock. He didn't know what was more surprising, the strength of the blast or the fact that Aiden didn't have to touch him for it to affect him so badly. He recognized the power of course, how could he not, but it was not what he had expected. He had never felt anything so strong, didn't realize that the power he possessed himself could be used so casually like that. He felt a little wild now, crazy. Aiden's Kundatesh was shimmering through his body like powerful drug, better than any plasma high. It took all of his will not to leap across the bed and lay Aiden down, fuck the living crap out of him. It crossed his face, an open book easy to read, and Aiden smiled up at him, ever so willing to let the pilot do as he wished.

"You boys okay?"

Kimble turned to see Rogue standing a few feet closer than she had been before. She'd been watching televison but had caught Kimble's noise.

"We fine, preciousz," Aiden replied smoothly, then grinned at her lecherously. " 'Lessz you wanna come over an' entertain usz wit dat lovely mout' of yoursz. You look asz bored asz usz."

"You keep that shit to yourself!" Rogue snapped, not happy with Aiden's flirtations. He wasn't very subtle and cruder than she was used to. Irritated now, she looked at Kimble without real sympathy, "You okay, Sugah?"

"I'm fine," Kimble said, sitting back up and grabbing sloppily at his cards, sure to cover the physical signs of his arousal. His hands were shaking, but the Kundatesh induced sexual redness in his mind was fading, killed fast by his shame at being caught once again. This was becoming a regular thing, a regular painful one. If he and Aiden didn't find a private place soon to work off this growing, aching wellspring of desire, he was going to bust.

"Good. Then you two had best simmer down," Rogue warned and went back to her chair.

His embarrassment justified by her scolding, Kimble waited until she was far enough away to say, "I knews ya had the power, just didn't have no name fer it. Remy don' calls it that."

Aiden was annoyed at Kimble's reaction to Rogue's words, but let it go. He would work on that and given enough time, he would see that Kimble was never embarrassed by what any **Chuckfet** might think of him ever again. "What doesz 'e call it zen?"

Kimble shrugged. "I don't know. He calls it love. That we gots a bond, him an' me."

"A **Chuckfet **might t'ink dat way. Ze power can make dem t'ink dey in love when all it isz, isz an addiction. Zey get hung up on it, zen dey punish usz when we don' give it no more."

"Remy ain't never done that ta me. If anathin' I push m'self on him too much, I guess."

"You don' get uszed much 'ere? No clientsz?"

"Not really. Not like back on Siska. Not like I would wants, I guess. I'm too dangerous. Hurt too many people."

"Ah, but you cannot 'urt me," Aiden replied suggestively. He wanted something with Kimble, something more than a fleeting burst of passion. It was hard to hold himself back, hard to not just blurt out and say, "Hey I dreamed we would fall in love and it was glorious." He didn't want to scare the pilot away before anything happened between them at all. He knew that the future could be changed, that there were no guarantees. Out here in the real world those treacherous paths were not lit to be easily seen. One wrong move and that dream would never be fulfilled. "I am not **Chuckfet**. Dere isz no pain you can give me. No death."

Kimble scowled softly and his shine swirled with a mixture of fear and uncertainty. Aiden's words were too serious for comfort. He didn't know if Aiden's sentiments were true or not and he didn't want to find out the hard way, he didn't want to see Aiden dead because they got too carried away and fell in love.

Aiden saw he'd gone too far even with that baby step of intention and cursed inwardly. It was frightening just how timid Kimble was at the thought of anything lasting, it was so opposite to what Aiden had ever seen in a Siskan. The best he could hope for was that when they lay together, Kimble would be so impressed by his skill, his touch, his sincerity of feeling, that he wouldn't run away so quickly. Aiden shrugged and tried to come off as casual as he said, "Not zat it would ever come to dat, eh? No reaszon for a client to fear from you."

Kimble relaxed a bit at that and his shine eased back into something calmer. Client. It meant that the exchange was nothing more than a temporary sharing of heat and touch, not something to get lost in. Just enough to say, "Hey, it was great," and then you walk away, both happy. Happy and safe. "I ain't never hurt no clients," Kimble said, understanding. "They's all been happy with me."

"But of course zey were," Aiden returned quickly with a smile of pure arrogance and pride. "You are Sziszkan."

Kimble returned the smile, feeding off of that confidence like a drug. It was true that Aiden affected him in a positive way. There was something to be said to being in the company of someone who enjoyed being who and what he was.The sentiment was infectious and it made Kimble quite happy. Happy enough not to notice how the voices in his head were quiet. Not a word had been spoken since that quick grope in the testing room, something significant... if one were to notice.

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Gambit had noticed the differences -- maybe not that the voices were silent, but he could see the changes in Kimble and hoped that they were lasting. Kimble was shy around the guards, yet playful around his new brother and sister. Always he was laughing and romping about without a hint of tears or distress. He was walking a little taller, his confidence definitely on the rise. His visits with Angel were not strained, he was light and airy, acting as though he wasn't really locked up at all, just not so free to be with his child as he should. He didn't mope around after she left, missing her, he was always just that much brighter as though she had recharged him somehow. He wasn't fighting anyone or anything in regards to his punishment. He was completely cooperative and compliant, things falling in his favor. Remy could only take this as a good sign and believed if Kimble kept it up, it would only be a matter of time before he was freed.

Remy had his training classes to keep up for the Professor, but he made sure he was always around. He spent a lot of his spare time in the Lab, was taking his turn at guard duty himself, making himself available to all the Siskans if they wanted to talk. He had a feeling it wasn't going to be long before Kimble at least made his way over to chat about what was going on around them -- the Game, the anti-mutant terrorist activities taking place outside these walls, and the reasons why Aiden and Babette were here in the first place. He'd noticed that Kimble and Aiden were spending more and more time huddled off to one side, whispering to each other and growing wary when a guard might pass by. Whatever they were discussing, they were keeping it to themselves. Later, Kimble might be alone, his eyes distant and dreamy as he mulled over what he'd been told. Remy just knew it was a matter of time before Kimble was going to want his perspective on things and he was right.

It wasn't long on the fourth day before Kimble tugged on his coat in gentle invitation and drew him away to the testing room for a little chat. He hopped up on the counter as Aiden had done, waiting until Gambit had drawn near to begin.

"Aiden says you went to see his Master once. Back when I wuz so sick an' all."

"Oui, dat's right."

"How come ya never talks about it?"

Remy shifted, leaning against the counter to get comfortable. He wasn't the least bit nervous, he'd actually been expecting this somewhat and had his answer already prepared. "I tried, cher, many times. But when I brought up t'ings about de Game you got upset. Over time, I just let it go. Figured when the time came, we'd talk about it, just like now."

Kimble nodded, but his head was down. His voice was soft as he asked, "Anathin' else ya didn' tells me?"

Remy had anticipated this as well and he wanted his explanation to be completely understood. He came closer and tipped Kimble's chin up to better see his eyes. "Before we go no further, you and me, we gotta 'ave some words 'ere, cher."

Kimble swallowed nervously, unsure what he was seeing in Remy's shine. His friend was trying to seem cross, but all there was in his shine was love. "What?"

"You an me, we been friends a real long time, share a love no one 'ere can ever touch, mon amoureux. Do you trust me?"

"Course I do."

"Den you believe me dat when I say dat whatever I said – or didn' say – I did it outta love and wantin' ta keep you outta dis 'urtin' you seem to want to stay in, d'accorde?"

Kimble smiled at him, softening. "Of course I do. I'm sorry if I made ya mad." He pushed forward, leaning himself into Remy's arms, wanting to be held.

Gambit was eager to comply as always. "Je t'amie, cher. Toujours."

"That means ferever," Kimble mumbled happily against Remy's chest, breathing in his lovely smells. There was nothing as good as this, as being in these arms.

Remy snickered softly, stroking a hand along Kimble's long dangling ponytail. He could feel Kimble's love come at him in a gentle soothing wave of heat. "Dat's right. It's good you wantin' to talk about things, just dat I want you to be sure dat I didn't ever hide nuthin' from you. Didn't want you to have no pain, comprenez?"

"Shure. It's just that with Aiden around, I been havin' all these questions."

"Dat's normal and tres bien, cher. Ask away."

Kimble laughed a little and backed up, comfortably close, but not so intimate. "Tells me what ya knows 'bout Sheyman."

Remy nodded, thinking to himself for a moment as he reached into a pocket for some gum. He put the gum in his mouth, thought on it again and fished in his pocket again, slipping a small morsel of chocolate into Kimble's waiting and eager hand. As he watched Kimble's smile spread wider at the treat, he began to speak.

"Trishnar tell me some t'ings, de Games Master a little more. What I end up wit is dis. Sheyman de son of some rich guy, a man of influence. Sheyman got some experience wit de 'grams, like 'e a trainer or sumptin' like one, but 'e not no more. Sheyman 'as sumptin' wrong wit 'im now, an injury p'etetre, sumptin' dat make 'im closed off. Daddy needed sumptin' to bring 'im out. 'E go to dis guy Quishnalay, a guy who makes de 'grams."

Kimble nodded. "Aiden said sumpthin' 'bouts him. That he made all of us."

"Oui. All de 'grams from de Game. Sheyman's daddy lay de money down, Quishnalay gives him you."

Kimble's head continued to nod, but there was a profound, disappointed sadness seeping into his shine. Things had shifted slightly askew for him, he wasn't sure just what was real anymore, what he could trust in or rely on. Remy reached out again, brushing the pilot's cheek to regain his attention. "Don' be upset, cher. Just cause Sheyman was wrong about makin' you, don' mean 'e was wrong about lovin' you. I wasn't in de files long, but it was long enough fo' me to see dat what 'e feel for you was no lie. Ne jamais, never a lie."

Kimble leaned against him again, a child still in need of that reassurance. He recalled all too fondly himself that brief time of insanity when their two minds had collided unexpectedly. He had been injured, dying, and this courageous thief had come to his rescue, never hesitating or questioning the wisdom of the act. Kimble's body had greedily stolen a generous amount of Remy's bio-kinetic energy, a healing balm, and brought a hijacked Cajun mind with it, changing Remy forever.

Gambit got a crash course in Kimble's jumbled, broken memory files, an Ebenezer Scrooge, "rabbit down the hole in Wonderland" kind of trip through Kimble's life. He'd glimpsed some of Kimble's earliest memories, particularly those of his time with his first Master, Sheyman. Sheyman was sick, dying from a mysterious illness and Kimble, a very young 'gram, was doing his best to care for him. They were close, close as lovers, something that forever tainted Kimble's notion of just what a Master was. For Kimble, anything less than total devotion from a Master was a horrible tease, an unsatisfying and nonsymbiotic relationship. It was like being buried alive when you can never die. It was why Kimble couldn't form lasting relationships, he wanted too much, was almost smothering when all he could find were transitory partners so far. No one had wanted Kimble as much as he wanted them to want him back.

"I loved him. I still loves him," Kimble murmured, feeling a painful twinge from inside.

"Je sais, I know, cher. C'est bein, it's de way it's suppose' to be. Dat ain't gotta change." Remy gave him another squeeze. "Dere's more, sumptin' you gotta know."

"What's that?"

"Dis love you 'ave fo' Sheyman. It was a real t'ing, a very important t'ing for you, sumptin' important to who you are. I knew dis from de moment I ever saw de two of you together. I didn't rush to tell you 'bout Quishnalay 'cause I was afraid dat you would t'ink all you 'ad wit Sheyman was a lie when it wasn't. Sheyman loved you wit all 'is 'eart, 'e was just confused in his head, dat's all. Don't go an' hate me fo' keepin' it from you or go hatin' Sheyman. Jus' fo'get Quishnalay anyt'ing to you, 'cause 'e never meant nuthin', d'accorde?"

Kimble sat back and looked up into Remy's bright red eyes. "Aiden says Quishnalay betrayed us all. That 'e wuz a bad man."

Gambit swallowed, unsure how to proceed. He knew next to nothing about the guy. "What Aiden say 'bout 'im?"

Kimble's brow furrowed a bit in confusion. "Jus' that 'e made us an' wuz evil 'cause 'e didn't make us fer love. 'E made us fer money an' then tossed us all away like some kind of kid what don't want his toys no more."

Oh, it was far more than that, Remy knew. Both Trishnar and the Games Master had hinted at acts of extreme cruelty, of attempts by Quishnalay to enhance the Courtesans' potential by melting them, something traumatic and devastating to the poor creatures who received these treatments. Again this was something Remy had withheld from Kimble, no small part being that he had absolutely no proof that it even happened at all. It just seemed so plausible, Kimble and Aiden were unlike any other 'grams he'd met. Both had been melted, supposedly more than once. Both so shattered and strong and fragile all at once. Gambit was fiercely loyal and protective of them both, enough that he wasn't sure just how much he wanted to share with Kimble now. Did it any of it really matter if it was something he couldn't prove?

"Was dat all Aiden tell you about 'im?"

"Yeah, but..."

"What, cher?"

"His shine was full of pain. I thinks maybe... maybe Aiden loved him and got stomped on."

"De way you was afraid mebbe Sheyman stomp on you?"

Kimble shuddered and a tear slipped out of one eye. "I thinks maybe I don' see so good. That I only sees what I wants to, not what's really there."

Remy touched him again, sending a forceful vibration of loving concern. "You see jus' fine, cher. Sheyman love you de same way I love you."

"If that wuz true, then you woulda stayed with me," Kimble couldn't help himself but say.

"I'm right here, every day. If I was Quishnalay, I'd be dust. You know I'm always gonna be 'ere — even if you find y'self someone else to take ya outta dis pain you in."

Kimble blinked up at him, both eyes wet now. "You promise?"

"Humrph. Gambit gonna be insulted you gotta ask a question like dat."

"Don' wants ya anawheres else 'cept close to me. I don' thinks I kin makes out here on m'own. I ain't strong, not likes Aiden is."

"Aiden ain't so strong as 'e show," Gambit was quick to say, not wanting Kimble to be so swayed by Aiden's outside composure of calm. Remy had seen the aftermath of one of Aiden's nightmares. It hadn't been pretty, the kid had been crying, trembling and lost, calmed only by the open arms of his Master.

Kimble didn't believe, from what he'd seen, Aiden was much too steady to be anything but well put together. "Yes he is. He gots the power real strong. This Kundatesh stuff."

"Dat's right, 'e does. Kundatesh de formal name for de charm power, de empathy you gave me."

"You don't ever use that word."

Remy shrugged. "Seem like such a big word, eh? Guess 'cause dere wasn't anyone around to correct me. Again, I tried to talk to you about de power but you get funny. Like you don't want to know about de t'ings dat make you different from us."

"I don't feel so much like that now."

"Oui, I know. And it's a good t'ing. Dere's a lot you can learn from Aiden, I seen you boys talkin'. Just you gotta be careful some. Aiden's power real strong, oui, but it don't mean dat 'e's strong on de inside, too. Aiden's 'ad 'is share of troubles and it make 'im angry. 'E don' like 'is clients much, Gambit don't want you to feel dat way, too, from talkin' to 'im. It's ugly."

Kimble nodded thoughtfully. "He hates people sometimes though he don't ever say why."

" 'E tell you 'e was melted, right?"

"Yeah."

"Dere's only one way a Siskan get dat way. Negligence or cruelty."

Kimble shuddered in pain and Gambit couldn't help but grin at the irony. Just yesterday Aiden was sympathetic to Kimble, now he was seeing the same sentiment go the opposite way. Clearly these two were going to be more than friends. He approved but was at the same time cautious, knowing that Aiden wasn't as well put together as he might seem. Two damaged people didn't always meld peacefully. He should know, his prior relationship with Rogue had been a shining example of disaster.

"He dreams at night," Kimble confessed softly. "Wakes up all tremblin'. He don' ever say what he sees, just that he seems scared all the time."

Remy nodded, happy that Kimble had brought up a subject he'd been wanting to get to himself. In spite of Babette's mentioning that Aiden was dreaming less than he had at the palace, the nightmares were happening far more frequently than he would have liked. "P'etetre, you should get the boy talkin'. You know as well as I do dat it all feels better when you talk it out."

Kimble nodded in agreement. "I thinks Henry's been helpin' him, too. I seen them talkin' once after Aiden wuz dreamin'. Seen Henry give Aiden a notebook. He's been writin' in it, but he don't tell me what's in it."

Remy had seen this, too. The Lab was much too small for him to miss Aiden scribbling away when it was quiet. Gambit hadn't known where the notebook had come from but it wasn't hard to guess. Henry had long been a believer in unloading inner feelings and was forever handing out these books to anyone he thought might benefit from it. Remy himself had two or three just laying around, started halfheartedly and then forgotten. Maybe Aiden would get more out of it than he had, prompting Remy to wonder what was being written. He wasn't crass enough to peek, he respected the privacy of others too much. "It's good he write, 'Enry a wise man. But it ain't no substitute for a good friend, comprenez? Make sure you stay close to 'im, neh? Look after 'im."

Kimble laughed, amused at the suggestion. The two of them had been mostly inseparable. Funny that anyone would prompt him to be any closer. "I'll try."

"Bien," Remy replied and kissed him, slipping him another piece of chocolate. "You be good now, cher. Soon enough, dey gonna be talkin' 'bout gettin' you out of 'ere. You been doin' real fine, keep it dat way, neh?"

" 'Kay," Kimble said, warming under the caress and chocolate. "I wants ta be with m' Angel again."

"You will be. Now, c'mon. Let's see if we can't beat dat rascal Aiden at cards."


	2. Chapter 2

(Two)

Jael stood in his master suite on board the Cloud Jumper, looking out the huge picture window as the landscape of America passed him by. They had left New York only minutes before and were now making their way to Arizona. He hadn't left as quickly as he would have liked, there had been a lot to pack up from his old lair, but now he was finally on his way.

The Cloud Jumper was huge, easily fifty times the size of Fallen's Lucky Dragon and had every comfort a King could want. He had private suites as well as rooms for his must trusted honor guard. Now that he was leaving his New York lair far behind, he had been sure to bring what remained of his Siskan harem along as well. The ship was large and flew fairly low to the ground, well below any jet airliner it might collide with, and yet moving slowly enough for some delightful sightseeing. Jael was in no rush.

This ship was well cloaked and heavily armed. He was currently on his way to the general area where his spies had suggested Xavier and his group was hiding out. He wasn't going to take them on, not just yet, just scout out the area and work on consolidating his forces there. He wanted to take Xavier out with one massive strike when or if it came down to that.

Bold words, those. He stood there at his window, trying to shake his feeling of unease. He was confident of his victory and yet... and yet his personal psychic, Charlotte, had committed suicide only just this morning without a word, something puzzling. All along she had predicted events to fall in his favor, but her visions were somewhat flawed. She could only see a few weeks into the future, not long range forecasts. Jael knew the girl was moody, but this he hadn't seen coming. Had she seen something that drove her to her desperate act? It was irritating that she had acted so rashly without leaving any kind of note or explanation behind. Irritating and unsettling.

Jael turned when he sensed restless movement in the room behind him. Star had risen from his large bed and now moved to his private bathroom, no doubt to shower. Of course he had to start off this journey with an all night play session with his new toy. His body hummed now with her intoxicating magic, her special charm.

It didn't stop him from noticing her perpetual melancholy. He recalled her look of fright when he onloaded his Siskans last night and there had been so few, only four of them remained. He had kept those who would serve his purposes for play and destroyed the rest, not wanting to be burdened with taking care of them. He understood Star's distress, but had done little to comfort her beyond telling her that she was much too valuable to share their fate. Why would he? She was property to him, nothing more. Her feelings on the matter were irrelevant.

He smiled when he heard the water come on in his bathroom. Like most Siskans, Star preferred to be spotlessly clean, something that was just fine with him. He loved her cleanliness, it meant she was always fresh and ready for him. This ship was outfitted with the best of luxuries, she had all the hot water and expensive soaps and shampoos a Siskan could want.

There was a soft knock on Jael's door and he gave a grunt for entry. Razel was there, poking his head in. "A word, sir?"

"What is it?"

"A message came for you. It came over the interspace line."

Trishnar turned at that, it had been weeks --months, actually -- since anyone off world had called him. Sheba had been the last. "Really?"

"I had it sent to your private communication center. It should be there now."

"Thank you. That will be all."

Razel nodded and left quickly, but not before Jael could note the excitement in his eyes. These interspace messages were very rare and always important news. Jael went to his comm and clicked it on. Sure enough there was a message light blinking. Jael arched an eyebrow when he saw who had sent it. No wonder Razel had been excited, this one had come from Tranan, a known participant in the Game. Jael clicked start and the message played.

An image of Tranan came on the screen. It had been years since these two had met but the man hadn't aged a bit. He was full-fledged Dognan royalty as was Trishnar, his body strong and winged. He was dressed in the cavalry uniforms the Dognan favored, but his Royal House badges were gone. Tranan had left the good life for the thrills of piracy long ago. It had been his squads that had been raiding this planet for decades, stealing humans freely for the slave trade. With Trishnar gone, he must have been having a field day.

Tranan certainly was feeling chipper -- the man grinned at him with a toothy smile, "Greetings, Jael. I'm in the area and I thought perhaps I'd buzz by and hand you your sorry ass in the Game. The pickings around here are slim for Siskans and I figure you're as good a supplier as any. Hope you've made your funeral plans." He winked and clicked off.

Jael grinned at Tranan's joke, not the least bit afraid. He had the upper hand now, he had a good portion of the Shalayesk armor. Sheba may have had the weakest Siskans of the clutch, but they had good angels, good contributions to the Shalayesk. Tranan had only ten or so Siskans last Jael had checked.

_Yes, but he might have Rogues,_ came a meddlesome trickle of doubt.

Rogues were highly prized and ultimately, unpredictable. Who knew what advantages they might provide their Masters? Star alone had given him magic as good as a healing factor. If he got damaged, she could heal him. It wasn't clear just how many Rogues there were, that was supposed to add to the mystery. Jael personally knew of three. There was his own Star, and Kimble of course, but he had been told that Trishnar had possessed a Rogue as well, a Grey. Why it hadn't been turned over was puzzling as well as irritating. He hoped it hadn't been stolen. That meant it might never be recovered as part of the Game. Such a waste.

Jael pulled out a keypad and typed his reply, inviting Tranan to play anytime he liked. He suggested an out of the way place, Yosemite National Park. He wanted this done away from the desert, he didn't want Xavier to know he was so close. Of course, it meant he would be distracted some from his current plans of acquiring Kimble, but Razel could manage this phase of the operation against Xavier on his own for a while. The Game was too important. Jael believed Tranan was the last obstacle to be crossed before taking Xavier on and finishing the Game, the sooner it was done the better.

------------------------------

Charles was working in his office when a phone call he had been dreading for weeks finally came in. It was the inevitable phone call from Nick Fury, the head of SHIELD. The Professor had taken Kimble and run, hiding himself and his team from those humans he'd grown to trust. Sooner or later, some of those folks were going to wonder where he'd gone. Nick Fury was no exception. He was pursuing Charles relentlessly, calling in favors and putting on the pressure for Charles to respond. Sooner or later, Charles was going to have to face him.

Charles been delaying as long as he could, wanting as many of his security measures to be in place as possible before he even dared to raise his head. He did not need SHIELD to come down here en masse, giving his position away to Jael. Looked like Charles had run out of time. He'd been caught up with at last. The call came to his secure line that couldn't be traced but that didn't mean Fury couldn't make his life miserable. He would have to respond to the call in order to avoid the SWAT team invasion scenario on the Westchester Mansion. He turned to his enlarged the video phone monitor, not really looking forward to this. He clicked on, making the connection to the switchboard and took the incoming call. "Good afternoon, General Fury."

Nick Fury just grinned at him, a mirthless sneer of fury worthy of his name. "Let's just cut the crap, Charles. Where are you?"

"I'm afraid I'm not at liberty to say."

"You'd best be finding some liberty or face the consequences. I've already got three squads scrambled, just waiting for the word. I'll dig you out if I have to."

"I'm touched by your concern," the Professor replied, not the least bit intimidated. "Why all the fuss?"

"You damn well know why. You've taken five of my prisoners. I want them back."

Charles gave him a pained smile. The statement was of course true. Like Kimble, there had been others that SHIELD had allowed to remain in the Professor's custody, low level mutants that were mostly teenagers in trouble and not really threatening. Although they did not represent a real danger to society, they were still considered SHIELD detainees and Fury had every right to want them back. Of course it wasn't really that which was currently infuriating the poor General, it was more that his best source for intelligence on mutants had vanished without a trace.

"They are in good hands, you have no need for worry."

"Why did you leave?"

"The tensions out there were too great. I wasn't about to wait for the Friends of Humanity to come barging in my front door."

The Friends of Humanity was but one of many anti-mutant hate groups out there. Political pressure from these groups were the main force driving the refugees to Xavier's Mansion back east. If not for them, Fallen would be making fewer trips bringing the refugees to safety here in Arizona.

"We would have protected you."

"The only thing you are interested in protecting is your own ass, but never fear, I won't hold that against you. I just needed to be where it was safer."

"Running away just makes you look like you have something to hide."

"I have nothing to hide, but everything to protect. I am in charge of protecting my people and I will do so. At least this way avoids conflict until all you hotheads can calm down."

Charles had good reason to be afraid. The anti-mutant violence had been escalating in the time since Jael's battle with Sheba. There were squads of mutant haters patrolling the streets in some areas. Mutants had been gathering in small groups, finding safety in numbers, the strong and the weak together. If these pockets of mutants were found by the human squads, they were routed out and hunted, in some cases slaughtered. The squads didn't care if there were women or children among them, they were killed as well, their bodies hacked to pieces and strung up publically in obscene banners of hate. The spawn of mutants were just as cursed if they showed signs of their mutantcy or not. The bodies were piling up and some of the stronger mutant factions were taking notice. Retaliatory killings were already starting to take place. This was turning into a war whether Jael wanted it or not. If the man was going out of way to destroy the fragile peace Xavier had built with the human leaders of this country, he was doing a fabulous job. Xavier was paying in blood, just as Jael had promised.

Nick shook his head. "It's not just the humans doing all of the threatening and killing, Charles. Have you been reading what Butch Madison has been saying?"

"Of course. "

"Well? What do you think about him?"

"I'd be worrying more about Jael at this time, Nick. Butch and his Outkasts are only promising violence if normal humans respond to Jael's threats politically in an inhumane way. He hasn't publically retaliated against the squads, he's more concerned about camps and exterminations on a grand scale. If we stop Jael, the conflict will end and hopefully Butch and his Outkasts will fade away."

"That's not realistic. You know we think he's responsible for North Korea."

Charles had to stop and think about that some. North Korea's nuclear program had ended rather abruptly and with no one outright taking responsibility though it was widely speculated that a mutant or mutant faction had been responsible. No one else could have gone in there and stolen such ordinance without anyone knowing for sure who it had been. If had been the Outkasts, it was possible the Outkasts were now a nuclear power and far more powerful than Xavier could have imagined. That he did not want to contemplate. "I have no intel on the matter."

"Well, maybe you'd best look into it and give us a hand. This could get ugly for all us, not just those of us on the watchtowers, Charles. We have to work together."

"Nothing would please me more. I have been sending out my squads as you know. We have been doing our best to stop some of the bigger riots."

"Yes, your squads. That's a funny thing. I haven't seen any of your senior staff. Sending out children to fight for you now?"

Charles bristled at the dig. It was to a point true. He'd gathered some of the more promising next generation X-men and was sending them out in cloaked Blackbird planes, trying to make a name for the 'good muties'. He hadn't needed to prompt these young converts, all of them had been chomping at the bit to serve. It was the prestige of the X label on the sleeve. They almost always got their picture in the paper or a shot on the news as well. In defense of this he answered, "I have need of the senior staff here — for security reasons."

"I'm supposed to believe you're afraid of some human strike squads? You could eat those bozos for lunch and not even burp once."

"It's not them I'm worried about."

"Then who, Charles? Help me out here. You know you can trust me."

The Professor sighed. "I have something Jael wants. I mean to see that he doesn't get it."

Fury was silent a moment. "It's that Kimble guy, isn't it? I recall you mentioning before that Jael had wanted him. Jael had even paid Sabretooth to collect him from you. Jael's raided your Mansion on more than occasion, if I'm not mistaken -- unsuccessfully. He's tired of waiting, isn't he?"

Charles couldn't fault the man's memory. He chose not to answer directly, but said, "I can't risk you giving away our position. If you help us, Jael will know where we are. If I send my senior people out, my security here will be compromised. By keeping watch here I am helping things, just not in a way that can be directly seen."

Fury nodded. "All right – for now. I'm still going to track you down, one way or another. What I do with that knowledge depends on your behavior. I don't want any more buildings falling down on innocent civilians."

"I can assure you that had nothing to do with me, but I understand your position."

"Keep in touch, Charles. I so enjoy talking to you, old man."

Charles smiled, Fury was at least ten years older than himself. "I'll do that."

Fury nodded and clicked off, unsatisfied but dealing with it.

Charles wheeled away from the screen, rubbing his temples to ward off an oncoming headache. That phone call had been a lot less painful than he had expected. It would be a relief to have Fury off of his back for a while. They had worked together on numerous occasions so there was a history between them, enough that some trust had to be paid on both sides. Fury was a longtime associate of Logan's, they had shared some time in the Special Services. It wouldn't be good for either side for tensions to grow between them.

The Professor moved to his desk, ready to address the next order of business. Next up, a report from Henry on Victor Creed's condition. _Oh, pardon me,_ Charles thought with sarcastic irritation, _Kristalay, he calls himself now_.

Kristalay was recovering, but not at a rapid pace. His healing factor was officially kaput and there was no sign of it returning any time soon. What was concerning Henry at the moment was what to do with the guy when he recovered a bit more. Wounded or not, the man was still a possible danger to others. This Charles would have to think on some. He opened the file on Kristalay and began to read.

------------------------------

Two floors down, Kristalay lay in his bed, humiliatingly restrained by his broken limbs. A few weeks had passed since he was first injured and as Henry had reported, he was doing better. He'd been taken off the critical care list and upgraded to stable condition. He was out of traction but still heavily wrapped and bandaged. His hands were exposed to the air, the stumps of his fingers ugly but healing well enough now.

He was tired and sore from being bedridden, frustrated to no end to be injured like this. He had never been in a position like this before, never one to be confined to bed for more than a couple of days from being severely wounded. Even the time Zander had stabbed him, he'd only needed a couple days of sleep to recover enough to move around. His current lack of mobility hadn't kept him from hearing what was going on outside his door. He didn't need enhanced hearing to know that some new people had arrived and that Kimble was there, too. The Siskan was really happy about something, his distinctive snuffly laughter was heard almost constantly, that sweet sound trickling this way into his room.

Kimble wasn't the only one so cheerful. Another voice was there, too soft for Kristalay to make out anymore, but it seemed to be wherever Kimble was. The Lab was small enough that the Siskans had been staying right outside his door, close enough for their louder noises to be overheard if not the words. What he heard most was laughter — Kimble's to be exact. Kristalay was beside himself with curiosity... and more than a little jealous as well. Kimble's restriction had prevented any visits and all of his inquiries about events happening outside his door had fallen on deaf ears. No one was telling him anything.

Kristalay thought it was great that he had survived the trauma of Jael's assault on him and all, but what good was it doing him now when he was confined to a bed like a fucking cripple? His whole life he had been active and all of this laying around was killing him slowly. His sources of entertainment were limited, he had only a televison that was tuned to one or two stations. He wasn't one for the soaps so he most often left it off. He had a radio, but preferred to leave it off so he could pay better attention to the more interesting happenings outside. He had been given some books and those he'd read, enjoying them. Still, they left his curiosity unsatisfied.

Kristalay startled when his door opened and a nurse came in. She was bringing in some monitoring equipment on a large cart and was struggling with the door. He was still subjected to an almost daily round of tests as Henry tried to determine if the destruction of his healing factor was permanent or not. One thing Kristalay had to admit was that in spite of being one of the X-men's worst enemies, Beast treated him with a surprising amount of patience and respect. No words of judgement ever passed Henry's lips as he worked, he treated Kristalay as if was any other patient. Henry was persistent in his efforts to make him as comfortable as possible, seeing that he had his meds and had plenty of warm blankets and pillows. Kristalay hadn't known Henry that well before all this, but he couldn't help but respect him now.

Kristalay turned his head when he noticed the nurse wasn't alone. He saw a slender white arm reach out and hold the door for her. "Let me 'elp you, me," came a soft voice – **the **soft voice. The one that was always where ever Kimble was.

"Thank you so much," she replied.

"For one asz beautiful asz you? Anyt'ing, my love," the stranger continued to tease.

Kristalay craned his neck around as much as he could, trying desperately to see who it was. He couldn't help himself, he just had to know who was making Kimble laugh so much. All he caught was a flash of a gaudily colored shirt, thin shoulder length hair, a pale flaxen blonde. Whatever he might have sounded like, this was not Remy though the French overtones were there. No, not that exactly that, to Kristalay's well trained ear. Just too many z's.

The nurse pulled the cart through and her helper was drawn further in the room as he came to assist. He hung on the doorframe playfully, turning his head slightly to take in the battered man on the bed. Their eyes met, the tawny brown and the pale green. Kristalay might have been damaged, but he hadn't lost his training. He took in the god awful blue floral shirt, open just enough for a glimpse of a pale blue Mark. Well, that was a surprise. This man was a Siskan. No wonder Kimble was so happy and playful.

"Szee anyt'ing you like?" Aiden teased him, never losing a beat as he looked Kristalay over with unveiled curiosity. His movements were deliberately flirtatious and provocative. He wanted Kris to look at him.

Kristalay blinked, not realizing he had been staring. Aiden's too pretty face and bright shining eyes had temporarily mesmerized him. He certainly hadn't expected such an enthusiastic greeting from a total stranger. Aiden was practically eating him up with those pale green eyes. The intensity was unsettling. Kristalay opened his mouth to respond to Aiden's question, but the nurse beat him to it.

"You'd best be going now, Aiden," she said, finally getting her cart in place. "This man is not to receive visitors. Once he's better, he'll be moved to Security. He's a really bad man."

Aiden's mischievous smile only grew wider and he batted his eyelashes at Kris with all the coquettish charm of a young girl. "Hmm? Szoundsz szo excziting, disz bad man."

"Yeah, well. He's especially bad," the nurse said, coming forward to move Aiden back out. She didn't seem to find Aiden's interest in Kristalay the least bit amusing. "Besides he's very sick."

"What 'appen?" Aiden couldn't help but ask. He was resisting as the nurse began to gently push him out. " 'E get 'it by a truck?"

"Jael broke me," Kristalay finally managed to croak out. His throat was still raw and he hadn't had much opportunity to talk.

Aiden's feet seemed to lock onto the floor at that -- the nurse was pushing, but he was no longer moving. He was lodged in the open doorway now and going no farther. His flirtatious expression was changing to one of arrogant pride as he boasted, "Jael break ev'body. 'E ze one bad. Gonna kick 'isz assz, me."

"Get in line, boy," Kristalay grumbled with his new toothless smile. It widened when Kimble's face suddenly appeared next to Aiden's.

"Hey, what's goin' on? Some kinda party?" Kimble said as he winked at Kristalay, and gave him that bright, dazzling smile. It was clear he'd been missed and Kristalay thought his heart was going to melt at the sight of it. Kimble looked so happy and glad to see him. "Nobody even invited me."

"There is no party!" the nurse complained, grunting as she tried to move a very stubborn Aiden outside. She couldn't figure out why if the guy was so short, he was so impossible to move. She had no idea of course that Aiden was no ordinary man, he was Siskan and had some telekinetic capabilities. He was using his power to hold himself in place, she would never be able to move him if he didn't want to be moved. "You two know the rules. No visitors!"

"You feelin' okay, Kristalay?" Kimble asked cheerfully. He wanted so much to explain his absence so he added, "They ain't let me comes ta see you."

The pilot was forced to take a step back before Kristalay could answer. Aiden was relenting under the pressure of the nurse even though his eyes were still locked on Kimble's former Master's face with an endless supply of playful curiosity.

"I'm all right. Just bored stiff," Kristalay tossed out quickly. There was something warm in Kimble's eyes that made him work against the pain to sit more upright and try to move. Kimble was laughing as he was squashed in the door, crammed in between Aiden and the frame as he tried to peek around.

"Got a cure for dat!" Aiden chirped and then laughed as he was once more shoved by the nurse. "Mebbe disz one, she want to play, non? She a leetle worked up. Need to burn off szome energy!"

"Come on, boys!" came the voice of the inevitable guard. Logan always had someone posted outside of Creed's door just in case. It was Rogue this time and she had just stepped away from the door for a minute. Looked like it hadn't taken long for there to be trouble. She gave a frustrated toss of her head, ruffling the lovely white streak in her hair. Her green eyes flashed with frustration. "You kids know you ain't supposed to be in there!"

"Oh, good!" Aiden said, his eyes all the more playful. "Two beautiful women, two Sziszkansz 'ere? Now disz Aiden'sz idea of a party! 'Courze we wouldn't want to leave out ze cripple on ze bed, neh? Dat'sz all right. Aiden don' mind a man who can't top, eh? Real creative, me. You szo pretty, all broken up like dat!"

"Gonna makes me jealous," Kimble laughed. "Kris wuz mine first!"

Kristalay couldn't help himself but burst into hoarse chuckles of laughter. He was normally a homophobic bastard in spite of his past history of sexual abuse of both men and women. He just never considered himself gay or bi-sexual. But there was something so comical in the Siskan horseplay going on right in front of him that he couldn't help but be amused by it.

"Dat'sz all right. Dere'sz alwaysz room in ze middle!" Aiden chirped but then gasped as he was roughly grabbed and tossed out of the doorway. " 'Ey!"

Rogue was a girl, but she was anything but weak. She could fly and she had super strength. Unlike the nurse, it was nothing for her to forcibly remove the arrogant blonde Siskan from her path and give him a toss back into the other room where he belonged. "You boys better be listenin' to me!" she drawled, not taking "no" for an answer. "You don't want any more trouble than you already have!"

" 'Bye, Kris," Kimble said, his eyes growing a little more sad. He ducked out before he could be moved as well.

Kristalay could only watch as his impromptu visitors vanished, taking all of the noise and the fun with them. The nurse walked out with a sniff, "Henry will be here in a minute."

The door shut and Kristalay was once more alone.


	3. Chapter 3

(Three)

"What are these?"

Seth looked up from his laptop computer at Fallen's voice, his eyes burning and tired. He was sitting at the kitchen table and had been working hard for hours, finishing up the final plans for the Dragon 2, a small shuttle craft he'd designed. This craft was small and light, a simple taxi cab that was much more efficient than Fallen's much larger craft for delivering simple human cargo from point A to point B. Even better, the Dragon 2 could be powered by a low level bio producer of kinetic energy — and Seth had just the fellow in mind.

Seth had spent a lot of time with Remy, studying his power discreetly. He had great plans for his long time friend, did Seth. _He won't be able to fight forever, _Seth had been thinking, knowing that Remy was like Kimble in many ways. Gambit needed to feel valued and was a hard worker, always needing to keep busy. _He just might need a skill to retire on._

Seth's great love for the playful thief had inspired him to create this small craft, ensuring that Gambit would have great value for years to come — assuming the guy would agree to fly it. Seth had an idea he just might. He had never forgotten the thrill on Remy's face that one time Gambit had helped to power the Lucky Dragon on their final journey home from Cerise all those years ago.

The Dragon 2 wasn't all Seth was working on. He still had those leftover pairs of numbers from when he'd tried to upgrade his codes. He'd saved them all in a special file and found himself tinkering with them, arranging them until they made a strange kind of sense. He wasn't sure what he was dealing with, but it looked like the skeletal framework for some kind of power boosting program. Something he might be able to use with the Dragon 2. Maybe or maybe not. He was still farting around with it.

"What, Fallen?" he mumbled blearily, wiping at his eyes. He vaguely wondered when was the last time he'd slept. He couldn't remember. He was going to have to lie down soon though, he was wasted.

"What are these papers?" his Mistress repeated, the irritation in her voice plain.

Seth looked at what she held and swallowed heavily in fear. Two days ago he'd written up some papers formally requesting that not only Kimble be released from his imprisonment in the Lab but that Kimble be allowed to work on the construction of the Dragon 2 craft. Seth's reasons for this were more than merely a selfish desire to see his brother freed. Kimble had assisted him with most of the physical repair work on the Lucky Dragon whenever Fallen wasn't able to manage it herself. This was of course before Kimble had been broken and before they'd met the X-men. Kimble had been Fallen's Second, an enviable position on board and not one his brother had taken lightly. It had been years since Kimble had raised any tools of this sort, but his memories were files. All that experience still remained, something Seth was counting on to help him get this project completed quickly.

Seth already had the okay from the Professor to get started in a few days and the financial backing as well. What he hadn't gotten was a reply to the request for Kimble's release. Two days ago he'd sent out that request to the folks in charge of the Complex and of Kimble's incarceration and waited... and waited... and waited. No one had answered. He'd already resigned himself to the fact that he was just going to have to see to that request personally and had already made out a list of who to visit first. He was going to be taken seriously if he had to scrape and claw the whole way. His newfound pride and sense of self was not going to allow him to stand by quiet any longer.

It was that same sense of self worth that was nagging him now. Even as he looked up at his Mistress, someone who had dominated him for years with his joyful compliance, he could feel it stirring, threatening trouble. The truth was, the Dragon 2 was Seth's project and not Fallen's, something that was causing the young Siskan both some great pride and some trepidation as well. Was his Mistress angry?

"I asked if Kimble could come help me out with the new Dragon," Seth explained warily.

"Kimble is dangerous. I won't have him on the site."

Seth shivered and swallowed again when he felt her vibrations of anger and fear drift out towards him like a poisonous fume. So it wasn't the ship that bothered her, merely Kimble's assistance. Somehow that was worse. Seth bucked up and tried to gather his courage. As head of this project, it was up to him who worked on it and who didn't. Charles had given him full authority, something the young Siskan took very seriously. It showed that he was valued and trusted to handle such a big project. He was being counted on and the thought of it had filled him with pride. It fueled his sense of independence and self worth. He tried to be brave as he faced his Mistress's wrath.

"Kimble is not dangerous. He just needs to keep busy. Find his center."

"Find his center?" she challenged.

"Yeah. When he feels valued and wanted, he's happiest. He won't be a danger. Think of it as therapy," he offered, daring to smile at her.

"I forbid it. I won't have him out there skewering the next guy who pisses him off."

Seth's smile grew strained. "He doesn't do things like that, Fallen. He was protecting Angel."

"That hasn't been proven."

"Yes it has, Logan even said so. If he says it's so than it must be true, everyone trusts and respects his word. C'mon, Fallen, you know Kimble as well as I do ---- "

"How can anyone know him!" Fallen snarled sharply, cutting him off. "You see what you want. If you have him work on the site, I'm off the team."

Seth sat in misery, the last of his smile fading. He was being forced to choose. It had finally come down to this. Seth needed Fallen as much as he thought he needed Kimble to get this done. He sighed heavily, rubbing his eyes. He could do it without either one, he knew. All he would sacrifice is time. With the both of them, he thought he might get the new craft up in a couple of weeks, maybe three. Without them it would be more like two months. It could still be done. It just would have been nice to see Kimble and his former Mistress both working together again, he thought it might go a long way to repairing their troubled friendship. Fallen had enjoyed Kimble very much once, it was just that over time, she had done a fantastic job of phasing Kimble out of their lives. Kimble frightened her now and she had done it to protect Seth. Her reasons didn't make it any easier for him to accept.

"I'm sorry you feel that way, Fallen," he said solemnly. "But I made a promise to myself to help Kimble. This is the only way I know how. He's always been there for me and I can't say that I've always been kind enough to return the favor. I have to do this, I'm sorry."

Fallen stood still, in total shock. She knew Seth had been changing but this act of defiance she never saw coming. Always she had been able to subdue him and enforce her will on him, what now was this? A rebellion? She wouldn't stand for it. "How dare you choose him over me!"

"You forced me to it!" Seth protested, his face growing red as he felt his temper rise. The pain behind his eyes was expanding, blooming into a full blown migraine. This, too, was happening with greater frequency. First his temper and then a pounding headache to make it all complete. Wasn't life grand? "What do you want from me, Fallen? I want the both of you to work together like we used to. It would be good for both of you and this project. Don't you remember how good it was, working with Kimble? We used to be a family."

Fallen hesitated. It was true they had worked well together, had once been a team of three. They had accomplished a lot, making the Lucky Dragon the finest ship in the Clan fleet. But that was a long time ago and both she and Kimble were not the people they used to be. "I don't want him anywhere near you," she repeated.

"I know. You don't even have to say it and I know. Can't you see how much it hurts me, how you keep Kimble away from me? He's my brother, my only kin. I love him, Fallen. I love him and you both. Don't do this, please," he begged, trying to give her the eyes, one of his few weapons of coercion.

She wasn't going to fall for it. "If you insist on this, you can pack your shit up and leave," she said, throwing his dependance on her back in his face.

Seth stood abruptly, rising quickly with his hands fisted. His headache was full bore now, almost blinding him. Still he found the courage to stand up to her, done with this stupid petty argument. He resented her perception that he was weak, that he was without resources. "Fine, I'll stay with Remy. He'll take me if I ask."

Fallen stepped back, not expecting that. She knew Remy could charge Seth's power cubes, she had simply forgotten. "You can't!" she demanded with authority, trying to shout him down with her fury.

Seth wasn't about to be swayed by it, not in his current frame of mind. He'd grown too confident, too weary of her hatred for his brother. "So which is it, Mistress?" he questioned, using her title. He only did that when he was angry, or the most washed away by her love. He was using it now to hurt her, to try and get her to see just how unreasonable she was being. "Do I stay or go? This is all on you."

Fallen was trembling with anger, frightened by how ugly this had gotten, how out of control. Of course she didn't want him to go, but to back down meant relinquishing some of her authority. It meant that perhaps she might have to see him as her equal, something she had never really done. She loved him deeply, considered him to be her husband, but he was just Siskan enough that she had always kept him down, kept him on a sublevel. For years that had been fine. Now he was testing her. Testing her loyalty and love. She couldn't help but rise to his challenge of her status.

"I need time to think about it," Fallen replied, trying to buy some time for Seth to calm down. She wasn't quite ready to back down yet not ready to capitulate either.

"Fine. While you think about it, I'm staying at Remy's," Seth answered. He was closing his laptop, hurting in more places he could count. There was only one way to win this, he had to prove that she was not his keeper, not his only safe haven. She would take him more seriously then. In the meantime, he could use the break.

"You do that!" Fallen snapped, tears rising to her eyes. She had that feeling again, like Seth was a total stranger, something frighteningly similar to how she felt about Kimble. She turned and left, going so far as to leave the apartment itself, slamming the door behind her.

The moment she was gone, the second the door slammed shut, Seth burst into angry tears, sobbing loudly and holding his head in his hands. The pain there was horrible, twisting his thoughts into broken, paranoid ramblings. He knew what was really going on here --- Fallen didn't see him as a real person. Maybe she never had, maybe she never would. It wasn't just her, all those assholes who had ignored his request were just as bad. They must think of him the same way. He was Siskan. A non person. Someone who could be ignored. Ignored and then exploited whenever he showed some cleverness. He was Siskan. That meant he was like Kimble, someone who could be shoved around and incarcerated without impunity. Even Babette and Aiden were still detained though they had done nothing wrong. Clearly, this place saw him as they saw the others. A Siskan. Well, he was damned if he was going to allow it to continue without a fight.

He staggered to the bedroom, found his backpack and shoved his laptop into it, along with several power cubes. He was lucky he didn't require much, it took him no time to pack what he needed for a couple of days at Remy's. He almost had his rage and tears back under control when he was finished packing, wiping his face and swallowing his tears. He slipped out of his apartment, out of Fallen's place and left for Remy's.

Halfway there, he paused. He was close to Logan's security office, one of the names on his list of people to visit about Kimble's release. He might as well stop there on his way down. He would talk to Logan and then crash at Remy's.

--------------------------

Wolverine sat at his desk quietly smoking. It was just after lunch, but he hadn't gone yet. He was too preoccupied to pay any mind to the grumbling in his stomach. In front of him he had two statement reports, one from Aiden, the other from Babette. Both had been taken the same night the two Siskans had arrived here from Westchester and dealt with Jael's assault on their Master's palace. Wolverine was no policeman and certainly wasn't in charge of investigating Trishnar's murder out in the real world, but he was deeply troubled indeed. For days now, he'd been reading the two reports over and over again, trying to figure out just what it was that was nagging at him so.

Their stories didn't quite match.

Aiden claimed his injuries had come from a fight between himself and Jael's men. Jael was out on the lawn making short work of Trishnar while some of his henchmen had entered the palace, intending to burn it down to the ground. Aiden claimed he'd come to the palace's defense and that he had been jumped by twenty of Jael's mutants at least, maybe more. He'd fought them off and managed to get Babette out, but had been unable to rescue her angel child, David. In the course of that battle he'd been badly bruised and cut to a minor extent, enough to leave scratch like scars on his arms, legs and hands. They seemed like defensive wounds all right, but yet it wasn't out of the question for them to be self inflicted either. It was enough that Logan had moved on and questioned Aiden's companion on the matter, seeking more details.

Questioned separately, Babette said it was far less than twenty mutants who had attacked them in the palace and that she hadn't seen Aiden actually fight them at all. The only time he had lashed out was at the last minute when he came out of hiding to grab her and run away. He spiked a couple of guys who had grabbed her, using his long range weapon to avoid further damage and those men had never actually touched him. Aiden had killed them from a distance and he was already injured at the time, so she said. When Wolverine asked her where she thought Aiden might have gotten so battered, she was immediately evasive and wouldn't look in his eyes, saying that perhaps he'd been injured prior to his meeting up with her. It wasn't a convincing argument. No scent, but a liar none the less.

Now, Logan knew Babette wasn't well. Henry had her pumped full of God knows what and she was sort of out of it. She appeared dazed and reluctant to discuss the loss of her angel child, David. Still, she was protecting Aiden for some reason.

Looking at these reports, Logan had been forced to send Kennedy down to New Orleans to fish for more information. Kennedy was a longtime ally of the X-men team. He wasn't a mutant, but a valuable hunter and seeker of information, a spy and an informant who often worked hand in hand with Gambit and was valued member of the team. He would be able to find those answers Logan was seeking. Kennedy had been sent the day after Aiden's arrival and Logan expected word back any time. There had to be something out there, Aiden claimed part of the house had been set on fire. The police and other agencies had to have been involved in some way. Reports would have been filed, reports that could be checked up on if one had the means. Kennedy was just one of those who had the means. There was no way the guy would come back empty handed.

Wolverine had no reason to explain why he was so hung up on this, he just couldn't get it out of his mind. Aiden bugged him. Aiden's lie bugged him. He couldn't help himself but he liked the guy, perhaps because he was the only Siskan who wasn't weeping or skulking around like a wounded animal. There were aspects of Aiden's lack of fear that appealed to the alpha male, one could always recognize one of their own. Logan had also noticed and recognized Aiden's protective nature. He looked after Babette with such skill that Henry had to do nothing for her except monitor her condition. Aiden fed her, saw that she was washed and kept her good company – all while he was pursuing Kimble. Wolverine wasn't blind. He could see the change in Kimble and knew it was a positive thing. Kimble was much better mainly due to Aiden's attention and self esteem boosting efforts. There was no doubting Aiden's apparent stability and ability to control a situation. There were leadership qualities in there, ones that Logan could appreciate.

So, back to the nagging bits. So far all Aiden had done was lie, he'd given no trouble in spite of being confined so that lie was the sticking point. That and his mysterious nightmares. No amount of coaxing had unraveled that mystery but Logan was confident Remy would get that worked out given enough time. It still nagged. What was Aiden dreaming? What was he so scared of them knowing that he continued to lie about the events surrounding Trishnar's death? Nags, little nags. Lies, little lies.

Wolverine snickered, unable to help himself but feel some affection for the Dreamer there. Logan would never admit he'd found some liking of Aiden of course, he was the Wolverine after all, but liking was not trusting. He'd felt this way about countless shifty spies he'd met in the business, a guy here and there that rubbed him the right way. Companionable but oh so very dangerous. Spies, thieves, killers... liars. He'd known so many in his lifetime. Something about Aiden bugged him just the same, the same way all that affection for a personable co-operative still had him looking over his shoulder. The nags, the nags. It was just too convenient that Aiden had gotten out of there alive and unclaimed, safe enough to make it to Westchester in one piece.

"Prove me wrong," he whispered to no one. "Prove me wrong an' tell me he ain't a spy fer Jael or some other kind of trouble --- please."

Wolverine's thoughts wandered on. Yes, Kimble had benefitted from Aiden's presence. He was happy all the time and laughing constantly. There had been no violence, no signs of any of his other selves threatening to come out. Logan was still confident that Kimble had acted in good faith, had murdered in defense of his child, but that didn't mean the guy should be released. Still, Kimble had done everything he was asked to do and more. Logan was running out of reasons to hold him. Likewise, Aiden had been no trouble. No reason to keep him confined either. It was just a matter of time before those two were free. He felt compelled to prevent this, but had no real leg to stand on.

There was a soft knock on his open door and Logan breathed deeply automatically, reflexively seeking the identity of his visitor without looking up. Nothing came and he raised his eyes then, a bit puzzled until he saw who it was. "Hey, Seth."

The young Siskan was leaning in his open doorway, his uniform jacket on as was now required and a backpack slung on his shoulder. "You have a minute?"

"Sure," Wolverine replied, shuffling his papers around and putting the more private stuff away into a desk drawer.

Seth came in, a scentless inorganic being, and took a seat in the chair in front of the desk. He had no smell, but it didn't mean Logan couldn't tell something was wrong. Wolverine's eyes were watchful as Seth removed his uniform jacket and draped it over his chair, getting comfortable, the backpack he'd brought in with him was now at his feet. Logan could see Seth looked tired and under some kind of strain. Truth was, Seth hadn't been looking all that great since the move here. He seemed uncomfortable and tense, like he just wanted to keep looking over his shoulder but didn't want to be watched doing it. He looked paranoid. Logan didn't like it and made a mental note to pass his observations on to Henry the next time they met.

At the moment, Seth was setting some papers on Logan's desk. "I have a request."

Wolverine didn't need to read the papers to know what they were, he'd gotten a copy of them two days ago. It was the written request by Seth for Kimble to be freed on a limited basis. In the papers, Seth explained that he and Kimble had always worked together when it came to construction. They had done most of the repair work on the Lucky Dragon together and now Seth wanted Kimble's assistance in this endeavor as well, insisting it was best to keep Kimble busy. Logan couldn't fault Seth's logic, but wasn't keen on letting Kimble five feet out of the door. The work site was above ground, some distance away from the Complex out on the tarmac. There was no real security out there, not if Jael happened to cruise by at that moment, nor if Kimble freaked out.

Wolverine hadn't answered Seth's request, but it wasn't because he hadn't made up his mind. He wasn't about to let Kimble out anywhere. He just wasn't sure others in authority felt the same way. Kimble's good behavior was sure to restart the arguments in favor of his release and not just from Seth. Remy was just as persistent in his efforts to bail Kimble out. Logan was sick of seeing the hurt and anger in Remy's eyes as his own bids for Kimble's freedom kept getting squashed by Wolverine's counter arguments to keep Kimble locked up. They didn't fight much, but when they did, it seemed like it was always about Kimble, something Logan felt bad about. Remy always took it personally when it wasn't really like that. The kid just had to get around to seeing Kimble for the danger that he was, Remy and Seth both.

"I know what you're going to ask. Yer request is denied," Logan replied as gently as possible. He knew Seth was sensitive and fragile, they had worked together for years. He'd trained himself to keep his voice level around the kid, especially when the news wasn't so good.

"Why?" Seth asked, his voice stern. He'd already guessed this would be Logan's response, but he was damned if he was going to walk away without an explanation. Despite his outward appearance of calm, he was furious, his rage still stoked from Fallen's refusal to understand. It seemed she wasn't the only one. Logan was one of the ones who had ignored his request, making him now one of the enemy. Done with being ignored, Seth was still determined to make the rounds, meaning to visit all the ones in charge personally. Logan was his first stop and he could already see it wasn't going to be his last.

Logan sighed. "Look, kid. I know yer brother's important to ya, but you've just got to face facts. He's gone in his head. He's not gettin' out ever again."

Seth shook his head in angry negation. "His actions were perfectly justified. You have no right to detain him."

Wolverine sat back in his chair, moving slowly to hide his surprise. He was in the same boat as Fallen was, not sure what to do with this new version of Seth. Seth was arguing, challenging. That was a first. Logan had pretty much always regarded Seth as a passive yet intelligent plaything of Fallen's. He didn't argue or question anything. Logan looked a little more closely at his visitor, trying to guess what kind of bug had crawled up Seth's ass. "I have every right to detain anyone I deem dangerous, vigilantes and killers alike."

"Or anyone Siskan?" Seth asked sharply, his pale blue eyes digging into Logan's with indignation. Seth wanted Wolverine to answer to this, this question of where he stood in the world.

"Yer not detained," Logan tossed back in a tense yet playful tease, his answer unknowingly fueling Seth's newfound paranoia and sense of being persecuted along with the rest of the Siskans here. Really, Logan wasn't sure what was going on. He was considering the possibility that perhaps this was some kind of joke and wasn't sure how to respond to Seth's strange behavior. He had hoped that some levity would break the tension here.

He thought wrong. Seth was still curt and short as he inquired. "For how long?"

Still a bit confused by Seth refusal to lighten up, Logan offered another joke, one that still had a serious edge to it. He started to tease again, "Well now, that depends."

"On what? My behavior? My ability to kiss your ass? Screw you!"

Logan blinked in surprise, realizing now a bit too late that he'd made an egregious error. Seth wasn't kidding and this was no joke. Seth was angry and in some kind of trouble. Logan didn't backpedal, but didn't like the insult. "Excuse me, son?"

"You can't hold Kimble for what he did. Any moron can see he was justified. You're just using it as an excuse to keep him in line. And Aiden and Babette? What have they done?"

Wolverine bit back his rising temper. Seth was sitting perfectly still, his eyes blazing, but his words were short and to the point. Controlled. Seth was angry but not pitching a fit. That was as close as Logan had ever seen a furious Siskan come to control. If Seth wasn't going to cross the line, he wouldn't either. Wolverine tried to sound patient as he explained, "Aiden and Babette are waitin' for clearance to be let go just the same as any new person comin' in to the Complex. They're in the Lab for their protection. We don't know if Jael is right behind them."

Seth was considering his answer, but not really calming down. "When will they be released?"

"I don't know." That was true, nothing had been decided yet. "Why do ya care?"

"Siskans are not animals. We don't need to be caged."

Wolverine cocked his head, unsure who that was really directed at. Seth had dropped his eyes and looked away, a standard sign of evasion. Wolverine's body was still but his mind was moving rapidly. When was the last time he'd seen Seth? A couple of days ago when Remy had snuck him in to see Kimble. Before that? Hmmm... he really wasn't sure. Seth hadn't been around all that much. "No one's cagin' nobody. If ya got a grievance, go see Remy. He'll get you straightened out," Logan suggested, knowing that if anyone could get to the root of Seth's problem, it was the Cajun thief.

Seth shook his head with firm resolve. "I'm going to see Charles about this."

Now Logan straightened, shocked at Seth's challenge to his authority. Seth was going to go over his head, something unheard of. "That won't help you," he said, letting his anger creep into the growl for the first time.

If Seth was intimidated, he gave no sign. "I have no choice. You're not listening."

"I am listening. Yer the one not gettin' it. Yer brother killed someone. It might have been justified, but he has to be punished. We can't have vigilantes runnin' around the place. It's the nature of determent, kid."

Seth stood suddenly, his face flushing with spiked anger as faced his second ugly confrontation of the day, and Logan saw the first signs of weakness, the young Siskan's eyes were shiny with tears he was fighting back. What a strain this must have been for the fragile Siskan, so hard to show true strength when everyone saw him as weak. "Were you ever punished for those you killed for the cause of mutant freedom?"

"Watch yer mouth!" Logan snapped, rising himself. Seth was hitting below the belt with that one and he knew it. Of course it was a perfectly logical question, one Logan knew he didn't have a good answer for, but just the same he couldn't believe he was even having this conversation. He couldn't hide the lie when he argued, "That's not even close to bein' the same thing!"

Seth nodded, seeing the lie with eyes that were open for perhaps the first time in his life. What a wonderfully enlightening thing anger was. "I thought not. Whatever you have to think to justify what you've done, you just keep right on doing it. Goodbye, Logan." He turned and walked to the door.

"Now wait just a goddamned minute! You can't walk in here and talk to me like --- "

"Like a human?" Seth shot out, interrupting as he turned back to face Logan square. "Yes, I can. Contrary to popular opinion I do have a say and I do have rights. You just remember Kimble has them, too. Rights, I mean."

"That's unfair!"

"As unfair as being detained without cause?"

"Did you walk in here just to pick a fight?"

Seth paused before answering, "It wasn't my intention, but I've got your attention now, don't I? Look at you, all angry. I wonder if this is the first time you've ever really seen me."

Wolverine bristled, insulted by the question. He'd worked side by side with Seth for years now and had always treated him with respect. "I've always seen ya, boy. Seen that you've always been sensible and straight with me – until now."

"Straight? Sensible?" Seth questioned sharply in irritation, shaking his head. "You mean silent and toeing the line. Your line. Well it's high time somebody listened to me for once, I'm starting with you. I want my brother out. I want him working with me, it's what he deserves. I'm going to see that he gets it. I'll go as high as I have to, Logan. He's my brother, my family. You'd do the same if he was yours."

"He is my family," Wolverine insisted, meaning it. They'd shared a quad, shared meals, shared the good and bad times like any family ever had.

Seth snorted at him, an ugly derisive sound. "Oh, really? Prove it."

"Not this way."

Seth nodded, his eyes hard and not his own. "Fine. I'm done with you now. I'll move on up. I'll go as high as I have to and you won't stop me."

"How does Fallen feel about that?"

"It's none of her business!" Seth snarled, betraying more weakness by the crack in his voice. "She can't stop me and neither can you. I won't stop until Kimble is freed!"

Logan took a defensive step backwards, his hands automatically fisting from the escalating confrontation, not even realizing he'd done it until it happened. Never had Seth given him cause for concern, but damn if that anger wasn't pouring out of his every pore like a sickness. It was just as well he couldn't smell it, he didn't want to.

What Logan couldn't know of course was that Seth was less than an hour away from a vicious argument he'd had from his Mistress over this very matter. Seth was just determined to have his way on this and was even further enraged by the notion that he had to have her permission for anything. Logan should not have had to ask that question, he wouldn't have asked anyone human such a thing.

"I want you down at Remy's now!" Logan ordered, his voice stern and demanding. "Yer not well."

"I'm fine. Better than I've ever been!" Seth snarled defiantly, almost believing the lie as it left his mouth. He did speak the truth as he next stated with heartfelt pride and self assurance, "You have no authority over me. You are not my Master or my keeper, or even my boss. You cannot order me around like one of your men or your kids. I'm going to see who I want, when I want, and not by your leave. I'm going to Charles with this. I will have my way if I have to scrape and claw the whole way." His point made, he turned and walked out.

"Whatever you say, kid. Have fun," Logan replied to Seth's back, his harsh tone hiding just how much this whole conversation had hurt. He was looking at Seth, watching the Siskan leave was like watching a complete stranger. Seth was gone, his shoulders high and tight, saying nothing to those he passed in the hallway, a serious man on a serious mission.

"What the fuck was that all about?" Logan mumbled to himself, reaching for the phone. He had to call Remy, Seth was totally out of hand, not even close to being himself. Something had to be done, the kid needed looking after and Gambit would know what to do.

The phone rang the moment he laid his hand on it as if it had sensed his thoughts. Interrupted and a little out of sorts, he answered gruffly, "Logan!"

"Logan, this is Henry. Could you please come down to the Lab? We'd like to have a meeting regarding Kimble's release and the disposition of Aiden and Babette. I've already called Remy and Charles, they are both on their way down. We'd appreciate your input."

_My ass. You just didn't want to see me go off when you left me out of it,_ Wolverine grumbled to himself, still upset at Seth's angry words. Still, this would be as good a time as any to tell them what Seth said and Remy would be there for certain, negating the need to call him on the phone. Fine. Out loud he replied, "Give me ten minutes."

"We'll be waiting."


	4. Chapter 4

(Four)

Charles drove into the Lab, his motorized wheelchair humming softly as he entered. He'd received a message from Henry that he could no longer ignore. The Siskans had been penned up in the Lab for over a week now and it was time to decide what should be done with them once and for all. Unsure what to do with them himself, he'd been putting this off for as long as possible, hoping to delay until some grand solution should present itself. It hadn't happened.

As he came to Henry's office, he saw Remy and Logan already waiting there for him. Warren was there as well, looking bored stiff. It was an illusion, he was waiting for Charles to come and make a decision, to take the responsibility for what was to be done.

"Gentlemen," Charles greeted, doing his best to be as casual about this as possible.

"Bonjour," Remy replied, a strange smile on his face. He was nervous, already anticipating the outcome of this was not going to be to his liking. Logan had gotten there only a moment before Charles and although Wolverine hadn't yet spoken to him about Seth, the man was vibrating nervous irritation, not a good sign that this was going to go pleasantly.

Logan was upset, yet doing his best not to let his irritation take over. He was trying to organize his thoughts and make sure he had all of his arguments in place. He would see to it that Kimble didn't get out, but on the back burner was the intent to bring Seth's unstable condition to both Remy and Henry's attention. He was just waiting to get this over with, seeing Kimble remain in custody was his first priority.

"Where's Henry?" Charles asked, looking about the room, surprised the doctor would summon him and not be here.

"Right behind you," the big blue doctor answered, coming into the office, his hands full with several manila folders, files on the Siskans. He lay them on the desk and took his seat, ready to get started.

"Where are the Siskans now?" Charles asked, not wanting their conversation to be overheard.

"Out in the Lab with Rogue and Max," Logan answered, shutting the door. He guessed Karen was supposed to be here as well, but she was late. He'd fill her in later.

"All right," Henry said, beginning. "Let's see..." he said thoughtfully, opening the first folder. "This is Kimble's file. I'm happy to report that there have been no acts of violence or any signs of Zander coming back. He seems stable and I recommend his release into a controlled environment, preferably Remy's care."

"No way!" Logan immediately protested. "He's only been in here a couple of weeks. That hasn't been long enough to determine anything."

"Isn't Angel at Remy's?" Warren asked, giving his two cent's worth. "Kimble shouldn't stay there if she's there, too."

"Espe're," Remy interrupted, holding up a slender finger for attention. "Karen say Kim can't be alone wit 'er, not dat 'e can't stay wit' 'er in de same apartment if dey bein' watched."

Warren squinted at him in exasperation. "I don't see the difference."

"De difference is dat 'e is not bein' restrained against seein' 'er. Dey can stay in de same place," Gambit insisted, his position firm on the matter.

"That's not what Karen said," Wolverine growled, sensing a manipulation in there somewhere.

"Non. It what she didn't say. Isn't dat right, 'Enry? She never say Kim an' Angel can't stay together, just dat mebbe dey don' bunk in de same bed, n'est ce pas?"

Henry squirmed a little, torn. It was true Karen hadn't made that distinction crystal clear and in his heart, he didn't think Angel was any danger, so he gave in to Remy's argument and said, "I would agree with Remy's interpretation. Kimble has never hurt his daughter and I don't see why he would now."

"Excuse me?" Warren protested. "What about that thing he made? That thing with all the pictures. There was a reference there about molesting Angel."

"Non. Dat was a reminder to 'is Siskan self not to make Angel 'is Mistress in full."

Warren shook his head. "I don't understand what that means."

"Je sais. I know," Remy replied, that strange smile back on his lips. "So Gambit's gonna try again fo' de umpteenth time, d'accorde? Look it 'ere. A Master or Mistress own de Siskan. De Siskan gonna serve. Kim's been doin' all dat in 'is way, takin' care of her just like any father would. What Kim worries about is de after, when she get big, when she all grown up. Kim ain't like us, 'e gonna live a long time, he anticipate bein' dere for 'er when she an adult. When dat 'appen, 'e can't let 'er take on de full role of Mistress, de sexual side, cause 'e afraid she gonna get 'urt just like every other Master 'e ever 'ave. Dat's 'is psychosis, eh? Dat everyone die from 'im, dat 'e unlucky."

"Then why does he consider her his Mistress now at all?"

Remy rubbed his chin, thinking of how best to respond. "Dis's complicated. Firs' 'e belong to me, Gambit de Master, but dere was a conflict in interest, comprenez? Wit me an' Molly. He want to take care of 'is Master completely, do everyt'ing. Clean de 'ouse, cook de food, wash de clothes, everyt'ing. It a lot more dan most folks want, but 'e don' know no better. When Angel come it was a relief, y'know? Here now 'e got someone who need dat kind of care, so we let her become 'is Mistress in 'is mind. 'Cause de ownership pass from me to Angel, it settle Kim down, made it easier for us all to live together. To 'im, parenthood and ownership de same. Dat why he done such a good job raisin' 'er." His eyes found Warren's, hoping for some kind of understanding there.

"All right," Warren replied, nodding. "So who controls him, Angel or you?"

Remy grinned at that. " 'E still listen to me, seein' dat Angel still a child. Get it? 'E knows she a child, 'e ain't gonna touch 'er, he knows de difference. Even if 'e was so crass as to be touchin' 'er de wrong way, I would know it. I'd 'see' it."

"What does that mean?"

"Remy's powers have been altered due to his long association with Kimble," Henry explained. "He is empathic with Kimble on a level no one has ever been able to fully define, it's why we rely on his opinions so much when it comes to Kimble's care. No one has ever had reason to doubt this bond exists, especially me. I've seen it at work more than once. If Remy claims he would know, I believe it."

"I'll vouch fer that," Logan added, but was sure to make himself clear. "But it don't mean shit. Kimble is not safe to be out walkin' anywhere, regardless of who owns him."

"My Lab is not a hotel," Henry said in exasperation, irritated that the Siskans were being treated like prisoners when in fact Aiden and Babette had committed no crimes at all. He wondered if they were going to be allowed out as well now if Kimble was not.

"Kim will be fine if 'e kept in a small range," Remy offered. "Why not jus' set 'is tracker to jus' a few places, d'accorde? His place, my place, a place up top to charge. We could keep all de Siskans in one area. Let dem all bunk at Kim's. It's right across de way from me, real close."

Wolverine shook his head. "Aiden an' Babette ain't been cleared fer the lower levels. I don't want them close to Angel without bein' sure who they are."

"We know who dey are," Remy insisted angrily, irritated at Logan's continued distrust.

"Maybe so, but do we know what their intentions are?"

"Quoi?"

"Don't be naive, Remy. Just because they came here runnin' don't mean they don't have some other purpose fer bein' here. I still don't buy the story Aiden was tellin' about Trishnar goin' down. He's lying about something, I just don't know what."

"Aiden ain't 'ere to do harm. I'd know it if 'e was."

"Yer biased. The same way ya refuse ta see Kim as dangerous, you see Aiden as he wants ya to. He's got you wrapped right around his fingers, just like Kim."

Remy bristled at that, he couldn't help it. "Careful, Wolvie boy. Be real careful."

"Boys," Charles interjected. He'd been content to let his X-men do their verbal jousting undisturbed until it came down to insults. "Take a breath. Logan? How many men do have on your Security team?"

"Ten. Why?"

"Perhaps we should at least let Aiden and Babette have some measure of freedom. They have been no trouble, correct, Henry?"

"Yes. They have been well behaved."

"There is a small suite just down the hall from here. The visitor's suite?"

"Yes. It's a one room suite with a bathroom."

"The Siskans don't require much, it will be suitable for them?"

"For Aiden and Babette? I would think so."

Remy shifted, not entirely pleased. The suite they were talking about was quite small, only meant as transition housing. The only thing the Siskans might gain was privacy, not additional space than what they had now. They would be cramped. He wasn't sure if the extra freedom would be worth it.

Charles was still speaking. "We could place Babette and Aiden there for the meantime with a guard at the door. They do not have the ability to phase?"

"Not that I'm aware of," Henry answered. "Of course the locators they swallowed would prevent it if they did, just as Kimble's does."

Charles nodded. "Let's do that then. Place them there and fix the locators to keep them on that level only. The only exception would be for Aiden to charge. He can go up with an escort, just as he does now."

"Babette ain't a problem, she's real quiet, but Aiden is another matter. Given' him access to the whole level means he's got access to the Clubs," Logan stated with an unhappy frown. "He'll be around other people."

"Oui? An' jus' what's wrong wit dat?" Remy charged, his irritation plain.

"He's an obnoxious flirt. He'll get squashed."

"Aiden's a little preoccupied with Kim right now. Don' t'ink dat's gonna be a problem," the thief countered with a mischievous grin. It was clear he thought the whole idea of the two Siskans pairing off hilarious and cute.

It was not an opinion Logan shared. "And is that a good thing? I don't like it."

"You got no right choosin' who de Siskans want to play wit, neh? Dey ain't prisoners," Remy snarled, his hands automatically fisting in anger. He'd sensed Logan's ill feelings as well as his continued lack of humor. Gambit's patience with his teammate was wearing thin.

"Ahem," Charles grunted, breaking them up again. "Aiden and Babette can have some social freedom, perhaps it would do the girl some good. She is still unwell?"

"She's still grieving," Henry replied. "Being cooped up alone in the Lab doesn't seem to be helping her. Giving them access to the whole level would mean they not only have the Club, but the gym and the library as well. Later, the Solarium will also be available. Aiden could charge there without having to go topside. It makes the most sense."

"Let's see it done, then," Charles said, nodding.

Logan wasn't the least bit happy with Charles' decision. He looked at the Professor hard, his eyes glittering with disgust and outrage. "And who takes responsibility fer when this blows up in yer face? I've heard nuthin' back yet from Kennedy. Not waitin' fer his word is too risky. All we have is Aiden's word on what went down in New Orleans and it ain't near enough."

"I will take responsibility," Charles replied, quick to note the expression of relief on Warren's face. Angel wanted nothing to do with this, it was a bit out of his scope anyway. "And it won't blow up in my face. I want guards on their door and patrols in the halls. That will be fine until you hear back from Kennedy."

Logan shook his head in disgusted disagreement. "And Kimble?"

"That may be up to some more debate. Perhaps he should be let out on a probationary basis. He could be out in the day and back in the lockup at night. He's done that before, it's a routine he's familiar with. Perhaps he could work on that project Seth is starting in a few days."

"He killed someone!" Logan argued, furious that he was being overridden. He didn't think Seth had had time to see Charles, so the Professor was going on Seth's written request alone. That was an outrage. This was not going to happen. "He's not coming out! That's like saying it was okay! I won't have it!"

"Kim knows it wasn't okay," Remy said, a strange gleam in his eyes.

"Really?" Logan challenged. "Don't think I see that."

"It's true...it's Zander p'etetre dat don't."

"Oh, don't even try that psycho bullshit with me!" Logan snapped, pointing his finger in absolute fury. "That's crap and you know it!"

"No, I'm certain it's true," Henry interjected. "However, Remy, that distinction isn't going to free your friend. His behaviors and potential personality switching is unpredictable and uncontrollable. We've already seen that he is willing to keep secrets from us to protect himself, secrets even from you. He must be supervised at all times. There is no other way."

Remy retreated, his red eyes glittering with barely controlled anger. He'd gambled and lost, but still wanted the last word. "Kim's in control. So long as Angel is safe, Zandy won't be botherin' nobody."

"Well, I'm not about to take the chance that he gets his crosshairs rubbed the wrong way," Wolverine growled, not backing down an inch. "I told ya time and time again that that kid can't handle bein' outside of a box though not a one of you ever seem to listen. He was decent enough at the Mansion 'cause he never got out too far, now he wasn't in the general population a month and someone ended up dead! How much more persuasion do ya need? Cripes! You want him outta the Lab, Henry? Fine. I got all of his stuff from Westchester all nice and neat in holding cell six. I can move him in any time."

Remy snarled and took a step forward, he was stopped only by a gesture of warning from Charles. "If you two can't keep this civilized, you can both leave and we'll finish this without you."

"Kim ain't bein' locked up no more. It never helped 'im b'fore, it ain't gonna 'elp 'im now! He need to be wit people 'e care about. Folks like me an' Molly an' Angel. He got sumptin' started wit Aiden mebbe and it ain't up to any of us to say if it should or shouldn't be allowed!" Remy argued, looking at Logan in particular. " 'E's on his way up, not down. Dis de best 'e been in a long while. Give 'im another chance."

"He's had a ton of chances already, Chuck," Wolverine countered. "And look what happened. How many more gotta die b'fore we lock Kim up fer good? It's done!"

Charles closed his eyes and steepled his hands under his chin, a sign of his frustration. He wasn't sure what to do, the circumstances were so uncertain.

"**_You gave me a chance once," _**Remy said in perfect Siskan, knowing that Charles' telepathy would understand if he opened up with his mind a little, if he let down some of those shields he'd held up for so long. **_"Long time ago when no one t'ought dis t'ief wort' a damn. Don' give up on m' Kimble_**, s'il vous plait. **_Dere's a goodness deep in 'is soul. Angel sees it, she knows. Don' you t'ink she would be scared of Kim if dere was a reason? Who knows 'er daddy more dan 'er? I'll take care of dis, I swear!"_**

The Professor was still, doing his best to hide his surprise. He'd felt Remy's mind open up to him more than it ever had before, felt tiny tendrils of Kundatesh lick at the corners of his mind, not in an attempt to persuade, but to show his sincerity. Gambit knew this powerful omega telepath could never be swayed by his magic, Charles was far too advanced, he simply wanted to reinforce his argument and it was the only way he could think of to do so with complete honesty.

"I don't think so, pal!" Logan roared suddenly, grasping Gambit by the throat and slamming him into the door. He'd lived and worked around Remy enough to be able to sense the thief's use of power, but unfortunately his rising temper caused him to misunderstand it's purpose completely. "Yer usin' the charm! That's way outta line! Get the fuck out!"

Remy wasn't prepared for the violence, he'd been concentrating too hard on his message, and went flying, grunting loudly when he hit the door. He felt it threaten to give from the violence of the impact and lamented the collateral damage that often followed their more boisterous disagreements. Logan may have been a small man, but he was deceptively strong, far too easy to underestimate. These times of battle were often painful reminders to Gambit of just who he was dealing with. Wolverine's powerful hands were tight on his throat, choking him, and he knew better than to resist. He didn't need to, both Henry and Angel had come to assist, yanking Logan back.

The moment he was freed, Gambit gasped like a fish out of water, sliding down on bent knees. It wasn't just the lack of air, it had been the fierce vibration of Logan's anger, fury and resentment combined with an uncontrollable desire to protect Charles from manipulation. It was like an assault from an unseen opponent, a kick in the gut. Remy reeled forward, his hands coming forward to stop his fall. He felt someone reaching for him, catching him, and knew it was Charles. Here he was, his head back in the man's lap again, and so soon after pleading for mercy. Funny how life is.

"Easy now," Charles said, offering what support he could. "Are you all right?"

"Oui," Remy mumbled and scrambled to his feet, shaking badly now. Really, he should have known better than to use his empathy, it had been inevitable that Wolverine would misunderstand. Logan would have had to be on the receiving end to know its intent.

"Good," the Professor said, looking him over. "Now I want you to leave. Both of you."

Remy didn't argue, he straightened his rumpled jacket and left without speaking a word, his head down. Charles had felt it when that brilliant mind had shut itself off from him, closing its welcoming embrace with a heartfelt slam. It had been brief, that sparkling connection, one he had intensely enjoyed in a father to son kind of way. It was gone now, leaving a strange kind of emptiness in its wake.

Logan didn't budge, his presence still white and hot in the room. "I ain't leavin'! He was way out of line! Didn't you feel what he was doin'!"

"Of course. And it wasn't what you thought it was. I appreciate your concern but as a low level empath, he wouldn't have been able to coerce me."

"He ain't low level. I've seen what he can do. He's as bad as Kimble with that shit! He's dangerous!"

"No more than you and your temper," Charles admonished, trying to put Logan in his place. "Now, I asked you to leave and I meant it. I want you to see to it that Aiden and Babette are moved properly and have guards in place. I want their locators activated to the areas on this level only, please. Understood?"

Logan bristled, still sporting for a fight. He hadn't appreciated the Professor's comments, but knew deep inside they were justified. It didn't ease his temper any. "And Kimble?"

"That we have to discuss some more — without further disruption if anything is going to be decided today at all. Now, do as I have asked, please."

Wolverine growled, shaking himself free from the hands that held him back with a twist and a jerk, a reminder of his authority. The claws hadn't come out, he wasn't that angry – not yet. "This ain't over," he snapped and stomped out, slamming the door behind him, all thoughts of warning anyone about Seth's condition lost in the blur of the confrontation.

"Somebody want to tell me what just happened?" Warren asked with a rueful shake of his head.

"A minor disagreement that got a bit out of hand. Those two have been duking it out over Kimble for a while now. I doubt if they will ever agree on anything," Henry answered, settling back down at his desk. "It just goes to show how difficult this is to decide."

"I don't like the idea of Kimble being loose," Warren said, his brain still trying to digest what he had just witnessed. His time spent away from both Logan and Remy was hurting him now, he didn't fully understand the changes the thief had gone through and how it was affecting the dynamics of the team.

"I offer a compromise," Henry said, leaning back in his chair comfortably and putting his feet up on the desk. "We can let Kimble out in small doses, a probation. A couple of hours at a time perhaps. He stays here in the Lab the rest of the time and at night, it would be my pleasure to look after him. As long as he behaves, we can later extend his privileges. Maybe let him work with Seth."

"I'm with Logan on this," Warren replied, shaking his head. "He's not safe."

"We can't lock him up forever," Henry protested. "He was defending his child. It's been proven in every way that counts. Even Logan made a full report supporting that view. To keep him incarcerated would be a cruelty."

"I'm going to go with Henry's suggestion — for now," Charles said, still tasting the tendrils of Remy's pleas in his mind. It had been more revealing than the thief had intended, it had nuances a master telepath could interpret. Remy was weary with this battle, it was breaking him down as much as it was Kimble. Gambit still had hope, much of it riding on Aiden's friendship with the pilot. As Kimble learned more about himself, Remy was hoping for strength to follow. It was happening already, this healing, and Gambit's biggest fear was a separation between the two, something Kimble might not be able to handle. The circumstances were not the same as they had been before. "We'll try this and see how it goes. Kimble will be allowed short time excursions out, a couple of hours at a time to spend with Angel and his new friends. At the same time, he'll go back to his regular sessions with Karen, I want updates on my desk every morning. Kimble will need these extended visits with Angel, supervised of course. Let them go to the restaurants, spend some quality time together with his daughter. The more reassurances he has of her safety, the better he will be. Remy's presence must be constant, he will need support. All right?"

"I agree," Henry said, satisfied.

"I don't, but I have a facility to run. This won't be on my head," Warren said, ruffling his wings a bit and heading for the door. "At least you should consider making space for some permanent incarceration. I don't doubt we will have need of it." He gave Charles a nod and left.

"Ouch," Henry snickered with a short laugh. "Oh, ye of no faith."

"Well, he's not off the mark. I just might have to honor that request. There is the possibility a permanent jail will be required. Kimble isn't the only suspicious character living here. There is also our Victor Creed."

"He's been quite well behaved," Henry offered, switching gears to this new topic.

"Being a cripple will do that. He might not always remain so."

Henry cocked his head in curiosity. "You think he actually has a chance for a full recovery?"

"With Victor, anything is possible."

"How very true. I've been doing some tests..." Henry spent the next few minutes going over more details of Kristalay's latest medical exam with the Professor. So far there had been no significant improvement. He was healing, but at a much slower rate than normal. It would be some time before he was much of a threat to anyone. "There is one possibility."

"Yes?"

"We could try seeing what effect a dose of Kimble's charm power might have on him."

Charles' brow furled in contemplation. "I don't think that's such a good idea. With this charm being somewhat sexual in its nature, it might lead to further problems."

"Perhaps how sexual it is depends on the recipient. Did you get a flush from Remy just now?" Henry couldn't help but ask. His eyes were merry.

"Not hardly. He was trying to show me his sincerity, not trying to coerce me to heal," Charles replied with a half laugh. "Right now I don't want Victor getting any false ideas about Kimble's ownership. If they were to do something that might lead to intimacy, it might confuse one or both of them. I don't want that."

"Perhaps you're right. It was just an idea. Besides, I think Kimble is rather taken with Aiden at the moment."

"You approve?"

"Judging by Kimble's fine behavior, I'd give that a resounding yes. He's never been happier than he was the past few days. I suggest we let the boys play under a watchful eye and see how it all plays out. Don't keep them separated."

"Aiden may come to the Lab as much as he likes. It's Kimble that must remain in one place for now."

"Kimble will be glad to hear it. Speaking of which, if Logan has taken the others, Kimble will be needing some attention. I'd best be seeing to him."

The Professor nodded and let Henry leave. He had a lot to think about.


	5. Chapter 5

(Five)

Kimble sat on the edge of the bed, fidgeting as his eyes remained locked on the hallway leading towards Henry's office. He'd seen the folks there gathering, had watched as the Professor arrived. Remy had warned him this meeting was coming and he was nervous at the outcome. He'd obeyed Remy's wishes and been on his best behavior, had caused no trouble. He and Aiden had both tried to keep busy, helping with chores in the Lab, trying to build favor even as they grew to know each other better. All of Angel's visits had gone smoothly, there had been no fuss, no attempts by Aiden or Babette to sneak a peek at her or disrupt. Really, other than Babette's depression needing attention, it was ridiculous that the Siskans were being penned up here at all.

Aiden was quick to notice Kimble's disturbance, his eyes ever watchful of his new friend. He'd been reading a book of love stories to Babette, but was distracted by Kimble's nervousness. Even though she was dulled by sadness, Babette was fully aware that her brother's mind was on something else. She had been watching Aiden's fascination with Kimble grow like everyone else and was pleased. She knew Aiden better than anyone, knew that this friendship was just as important to his well being as Kimble's. Aiden's behavior here had been exemplary, a sign that this attraction was no flight of fancy. "Dreamer, go to him you should," she whispered, giving him a nudge.

"I am not finished," he protested without enthusiasm, shifting the book in his hands. "Dere isz ano'der chapter left."

"Read that one to me already you have. Go."

He looked into her lovely brown eyes, deciding. He loved her yes, and was worried about her listlessness and perpetual sadness. Yet it was the pilot who preoccupied him now. She was setting him free. He bent to give her a kiss. "I'll be back in a moment."

Babette nodded, giving him another gentle shove. He smiled at her, he couldn't help it, and left her to go to where Kimble was sitting only a few feet away. He flopped down playfully next to the pilot on the bed, bumping him on purpose. "What you doin', eh?"

Kimble was far too apprehensive to be playful. "They's talkin' 'bout us."

"Szo? Remy isz dere. 'E will szpeak for usz."

Kimble nodded, but was still fidgeting, rocking slightly back and forth without realizing it. He stopped when he felt Aiden sit up and come behind him, wrapping his arms around him. "Shh. Don't worry 'bout t'ingsz you cannot control."

Kimble leaned back into the embrace, grateful for it and the vibrations of comfort seeping into him. He let Aiden pet him and relaxed, was almost perfectly calm when a violent thud against Henry's door made him jump. When Logan tossed him, Remy's body abused the door hard enough to make the walls shake. Both Siskans were immediately on their feet and the guards in the room as well. Moments later, Gambit came out, rumpled and flushed, not even looking back as he left the Lab with a loud slam of the door.

"That ain't good," Kimble whispered and turned away. He was looking for someplace small, feeling the first strong urge he'd had to hide since he'd been let out of the holding cell. Remy's shine had been swirling black and a deep charcoal grey. He was furious, hurting and in mental anguish, something that did not bode for well for Kimble. The pilot slipped out of Aiden's grasp and left for the testing room in a rush, the tears already spilling from his eyes.

Aiden made to follow, but paused when Logan came out next. Wolverine's shine was just as frighteningly black, made all the more painful to bear by its brilliance. Like all the Siskans here, Aiden had been quick to notice that Logan's shine was sparkling bright, more powerful than the other **Chuckfet** here, except perhaps for the poor broken soul in the next room. Kristalay's shine was less bright now, but it had been plain to one who could read as well as Aiden could that it was not always so.

"You," Logan growled, pointing at Aiden, "Pack up yer stuff. Yer being moved."

"Where?" Aiden demanded, standing tall. He didn't know what to expect from this small angry man, he hoped it wasn't prison.

"Chuck's givin' you an' Babette rooms down the hall. You got clearance fer this level – this level only, got it?"

"Yesz," Aiden replied, still apprehensive. He was torn, they were being liberated, yet Kimble was hiding somewhere in the next room. "An' Keemble?"

"He stays. You don't. You got five minutes," Logan barked and then turned to his guards to explain. As he did, Aiden saw him grab the Master control box for the locators he and Babette had been made to swallow. The promise of freedom had been real.

Aiden reached for their packs, they didn't have much in the way of possessions, but his eyes were still on the testing room door. Babette remained sitting in her place, bewildered by what had just happened. This made no sense. She had expected that all three of them would be moved at the same time, had been counting on it for reasons of her own, but it wasn't happening. "What's going on?" she asked of Aiden, one hand lightly touching his arm. "I don't understand, me."

"We bein' moved. Dey don' want usz 'ere."

"Kimble?"

Aiden gave his head an angry shake. "He sztill punished."

"Must be freed, him."

"I know, but fightin' zem now won't 'elp dat. Gotta talk to Remy when 'e not szo mad, eh?"

Aiden finished packing and made to go to the testing room but was stopped by a sharp look from Wolverine. "You all packed?"

"Yesz. Want to szay goodbye to Keemble."

"No time," Logan grumbled, still incredibly pissed off. He had no desire to indulge anybody right now. "You'll see him later. Let's go."

"What'sz de big rush, eh? Let me talk to Keem."

"You got one minute. Make it good."

Aiden dashed off the way Kimble went. He found Kimble in the testing room, pacing nervously and wiping at the tears leaking from his eyes. Kimble glanced at him, "Yer leavin'."

"Yesz, but not to priszon. Zey give usz rooms down ze 'all. We will sztill be closze."

"But not here. Not with me."

Aiden grabbed at him, pulled him into his arms. "Do not losze fait'. Disz temporary."

Kimble shook his head, not believing. Logan's sudden presence in the doorway did nothing to reassure. "Time ta go," Wolverine growled, his voice heavy with impatience. He wanted this done.

"It 'asz not yet been a minute!" Aiden protested.

"I said let's go. Now."

Aiden hesitated, his hands fisting as his patience was being sorely tested. Father was quick to appear behind him, _Obey him. Do as he says and then worry about Kimble after. You have to get out of here, get settled in. Look at Logan, he's mad because he didn't get his way. This is good. Kimble will be out soon enough._

Aiden brushed Kimble's lips with his own. "I will szee you after. Not long. Not even a day."

Kimble took the kiss, but he was already starting to cry again. When Aiden didn't move quickly enough Logan took his arm and yanked. The Dreamer allowed it, but only with the conviction that he was gaining something from all this. This was not a victory for Wolverine, not for the **Chuckfet**. It was the only way he could tolerate this.

Kimble whimpered at the separation and fled once more, this time diving into a wooden closet that Henry had set up to store the lab coats. It was the closest thing he had to a hiding place.

Aiden moved quickly if only to spare his ears the sounds of Kimble bawling freely now from inside his tiny prison. He returned to the Lab and helped his sister to her feet before they were marched along and out of the Lab. Aiden hadn't seen much of this level, the stairwell leading to the outside was only two doors down from the Lab. They were moved quickly and stopped just a few doors down, a short trip. "Here's yer room," Logan said, unlocking the door.

Aiden stepped inside, trying to hide a grumble of dismay. The place was very small, not what he'd been used to. Trishnar was generous with his Siskans, giving them huge quarters with extra rooms filled with toys and games. This was one single room, with a bathroom off to one side. One good sized room, but it was split into a sleeping area with a double bed, a couch with a televison, and a kitchenette. This was an underground level, there were no windows, no streaming sunshine, just dull and drab and empty. Not exactly palace elegance.

"This will do fer now," Logan said, oblivious to Aiden's dismay. "You guys don't eat much, so this should be all right. There's some snack food in the cupboard, drinks in the 'fridge. Remy will be in charge of chargin' up yer cubes. You've got access to a store down the hall near the Club, plus there's a restaurant. You've got clearance for the Library and the gym as well. You'll need credits to buy stuff, Remy will get you set up. Karen will be along in a bit, we'll see if we can't get you set up with some kind of work release."

Aiden's eyes widened at that. Work release? He wasn't stupid, he knew what that meant. No Masters here, he would be expected to work, to earn credits, something unheard of in Siskan harem life. He'd earned money before, but in cage fights, something he had no desire to think about. Just the thought of working made his gut clench from the bad memories that threatened. He couldn't hide the outrage. "What work?"

"Don' get yer panties in a bunch," Logan said without patience. He simply had no ability to reassure anyone about anything right now, especially some spoiled rotten Siskan he didn't quite trust. "No one's gonna make you bust yer ass. Just that this is a communal complex. Everyone works, all the jobs get done. Understand?"

Aiden nodded, drowning in his fury and pain. This transition had been anything but gentle, all due to Logan's anger. He tried to take some comfort in Father's words, they rang true. Wolverine would not be so angry if he'd gotten all he wanted. Like the confinement in the Lab, all Aiden had to do was endure this, grin and bear it. "Fine."

"Good. Get settled in. Here's Remy's number and mine," Wolverine offered, scribbling on a fresh pad of paper that was left out on the kitchen table. "You need anything, give us a call. I'm sure the Cajun will be along in a few minutes anyhow. You'll have guards outside your door for protection and an escort when you go topside. Deal with it," Logan finished and walked out, shutting the door behind him and leaving the two bewildered Siskans just standing there.

"Well, dat wasz unpleaszant," Aiden grumbled and tossed his pack on the bed.

"A small place this is," Babette said, looking around her in confusion. The transition here was just as unsettling for her as it had been for Aiden. She curled up on the couch, wrapping up in a small afghan there. As she looked about, she didn't really mind the size of it, it was Aiden's swirling emotions disturbing her. She didn't want him upset.

"I 'ave my way, we won't be 'ere long, sziszter," Aiden promised, his mind already working around what needed to be done. Of course his advisors were there offering advice.

Father paced nearby, his wise eyes gleaming. _This place doesn't matter, it's just a room. We've had rooms before._

"**_I know,"_** Aiden replied in the Muzla, keeping his voice down.

If Babette was concerned with his speaking, she did not show it. The truth was, she'd long been aware of his ghosts and his one way conversations didn't trouble her. It was his way of working things out and it was better not to interrupt. Having been shattered herself once, she could understand. Her breaking hadn't been as severe and her repair successful, she didn't hear the voices anymore though she remembered what it was like. She didn't worry about Aiden and his whisperings. She was watching him though, reading his shine. It was as good as listening in. He was planning, doing things that needed to be done, and wasn't breaking down. A good sign. Unfortunately prolonged conversations with his ghosts often meant hard dreams at night. Aiden would need her.

_We've worked before and we can do it again,_ Father was saying to Aiden. _They won't make us fight for money as the Muzla did. _

Aiden shuddered as a surge of fury rippled right through him, brought about by ugly, ugly memories. **_"Don't want to t'ink about zat, me."_**

_You have to. You will have to fight. Not for money, but for the Game. We're going to win it, you know. Us. The Siskans. Jael won't be allowed to defeat us, not if we work together._

"**_Keemble cannot fight, not ze way 'e isz now. 'E isz too fragile."_**

_We'll work on that. It has begun already._

Aiden nodded, believing Father's words. It was true that Kimble was going through a period of self discovery. He had his problems, but he wasn't as broken as Aiden had been led to believe. There was real hope, but some planning would have to be done.

_You have to learn the layout of this place._ _When you sun, move further and further out. Test the boundaries. You are stronger than the **Chuckfet **– and smarter, too. We can do this, Dreamer, if you don't get sidetracked._

Aiden grinned slyly.**_ "Whatever do you mean?"_**

_Fucking Kimble. That is not your priority. Protecting his Angel is. Jael cannot be allowed to have her._

"**_Aiden can do bot'. If 'e isz clever enough,"_** Aiden replied with arrogant self confidence, already thinking ahead. He dismissed Father for the moment and went to the table to look at the note Logan had left. He memorized Remy's number and looked to the wall, happy to see a video phone there. He'd learned quickly how to use it from watching Kimble use the device in the Lab. He dialed Gambit's extension quickly, not really expecting an answer, the thief had been no happier than Logan when the meeting had broken up and could have gone off anywhere. He got a reply but no picture, Remy was on his cell. "Bonjour?"

"Remy? Disz isz Aiden."

"Oui?"

"Zey move usz, neh? Wasz too faszt, Keemble upszet."

"Je sais. I know. I'll go see 'im. You guys settled in?"

"Took only a minute," Aiden replied, not even trying to hide the sarcasm.

"It's small, oui, Gambit knows. At least now you got some privacy. Dey give you full freedom?"

"T'ink szo."

"Bien. Meet me down 'ere. I'm at de Bistro just down de 'all from you."

------------------------------------

Henry walked out of his office, aware of the silence that now permeated his Lab. He hadn't realized just how much clamor the Siskans had made, how used to their laughter he had grown. Charles had only just left and Henry was concerned now for Kimble. His target however was nowhere in sight. Max was still hanging out by the testing room door, peeking in, his white winged body offering a suggestion as to where the pilot might be hiding.

"Is Kimble in there?" Henry asked.

"Yeah. He went into the closet."

Henry nodded and went in, going to the large wooden cabinet there where the Lab coats were kept. It was the only real place the pilot could squeeze into and not be seen. "Kimble? You in there?"

"Go away!" Kimble sobbed sharply from inside.

Beast eased the doors open, revealing a Kimble sized lump at the bottom, a lump covered with coats and completely buried. Kimble had unhooked the coats and piled them over himself, not wanting any part of a world where he was to be left so alone. Beast pawed at the pile, uncovering the pilot's head and shoulders. "Come out, Kimble. It wasn't as bad as you think."

"Remy wuz so angry! Yous gonna locks me up ferever!" Kimble bawled, tears pouring down his cheeks.

"Actually, no. You've been given some freedom, my friend. Gambit was a bit hasty and left before we had decided the terms of your release. You can leave the Lab, just a couple hours at a time with supervision, but at least it's better than being here all alone."

"With Aiden and Babette gone, it's like bein' alone anaways!" Kimble complained, his voice breaking from the pain.

"You may not be let out, but no one said they couldn't be let in. To tell the truth, I miss them myself already. You worry too much."

Kimble blinked up at the big blue doctor, his eyes shiny and wet. "Theys kin come see me?"

"Of course. Babette will need to be here for regular visits as it is, she is still so terribly sad. Understand, Kimble --- this freedom you've been granted allows you to go to the restaurants with Angel, have proper visits, not meetings in the boardroom. Okay?"

Kimble sniffed, nodding. "When kin I goes out?"

"How about at two when Angel gets out of school? I'm sure she would be happy to see you."

"I'd likes that," Kimble replied, calming down.

"Good, I'll escort you myself if it comes down to it. Now, come on out, please. Don't be afraid." The doctor gestured with his hands and Kimble tumbled forward into his embrace, a child in desperate need of a hug. Henry gave him a nice squeeze and carefully pulled him out. "We have some time to kill until Angel gets out, why don't you help me come organize some files. It'll be fun."

Kimble came out, wiping at his face. Henry's vibrations of love and encouragement had been real, a soothing balm over the aching in his heart. Beast had always gone out of his way to make him feel better, no matter what the crisis was. He was helped to his feet and they left for Henry's office and the task at hand, a chore to pass the time until he could see his precious Angel. The rest of his troubles would have to wait.

Henry was pleased he'd gotten Kimble calm so quickly, this could have gone much worse. He didn't have Remy's skill, but did have his wiles when in a pinch. He just hoped that he wouldn't have to use them for much longer, he wanted Kimble freed as much as Remy did. He prayed it wouldn't be much longer.


	6. Chapter 6

(Six)

When Aiden and Babette arrived at the Bistro, they easily noted Remy's presence at one of the window tables, looking to the outside hallways. He was chatting on the phone, his shine a much happier sparkling blue. Gambit saw them and waved them over, dismissing their escort as he hung up his phone.

"You look better," Aiden commented, taking his seat.

"Oui, de 'Fessor just laid out Kimble's new terms. It went better dan I t'ought."

"Oh?" Aiden queried, instantly interested.

"Dey gonna let 'im out, coupla hours at a time, supervised. 'E can come out 'ere to eat an' play, sumptin' 'e need."

"Can 'e come to szee usz?"

"Yo' place kinda small. Let's take it easy a coupla days, see if mebbe you can go to 'is, d'accorde?" Remy replied with meaning. He knew Aiden and Kimble were probably impatient to have some real privacy.

Aiden smiled at that, understanding Remy completely. This was turning out to be better than he'd first thought. "Our placze isz very szmall. Not much to do dere."

"I know, guess you gonna be spendin' most of yo' time out 'ere. You can still see Kim in de Lab and now you got de library and de gym. Mebbe we can play some racquetball, eh?" Remy offered, remembering fondly how they had played when he had visited at Trishnar's.

"I'd like dat."

"An' what about you, chere?" Remy asked, taking Babette's hands. She was pale and tired looking, her skin was cold. "You got anyt'ing you want to do?"

"Big out here it is. Aiden can play, but at home I'd rather be," she replied. After having wandered out, her insecurities had resurfaced, making home that much more desirable.

"Non, non. You gotta get out. Let me order you guys sumptin' nice? Dey got good food 'ere, den mebbe we do a little shoppin'. You could use a new dress, eh? Sumptin' pretty."

Babette smiled at him shyly, giving in. His graceful charm was hard to resist, his heartfelt desire for her to be happy soothing. She let him order food for her and ate. Afterwards, she allowed him to tug her along to some of the shops, let him buy her dresses and more clothes for Aiden as well. He showed them around, being good enough to direct them to the cleaners for Aiden's bright silky shirts. He took them to a bank where he opened an account for them and deposited a nice chunk of change in there for them. He wanted them to have time to settle in before they worried about money. He bought them groceries and other supplies, helping them to lug it all back to their tiny flat. Outside the door a package was waiting.

"What isz disz?" Aiden asked. It was a good sized box.

Remy just grinned. "Open it an' see."

Before they had arrived at the Bistro, Remy had stopped into one of the other shops and picked up some paper and watercolor paints for Aiden. He'd had them delivered, wanting it to be a surprise. The Siskan had come from Trishnar's with nothing to paint with and Gambit knew he needed this.

Aiden opened his door and gently kicked the box inside, his hands were full of groceries. He set his packages down and happily tore open the tape on the box. Remy grinned, taking note — Aiden liked presents. Aiden paused in wonder when he saw what was inside, then turned and looked up at Remy with the strangest expression on his face. His shine was swirling — a surge of love for Remy, of gratitude for the present and of Gambit's thoughtfulness, and yet a profound sense of loss. This was something that Trishnar would have provided and an activity that David had participated in. It was just another sign that his Master was gone and things were never going to be the same again.

"Didn't give you dat to make you cry, cher," Remy whispered softly, smiling painfully.

Aiden wiped at his face in surprise, and then in irritation for his weakness, he hadn't realized he was leaking silent tears. "Aiden isz not szad. Not like dat."

"It's okay to miss 'im, you know. Trishnar was a good man."

Aiden shrugged, trying to toss it off. "I will missz 'im. 'Ow can I not? I live dere for szo very long."

Remy shook his head, knowing it wasn't the same thing. Why couldn't Aiden just admit that he had loved Trishnar? What was so hard about it? He had no idea that there was more to this than Trishnar. He didn't know just how close Aiden and David had become, that the pain was doubled.

"I miss him, me. Our Master," Babette replied, moving closer to Remy. She leaned on him to say, "Very much so. But better I am to know that you are the Master of us now."

Gambit balked a little at that. "Oh, non, chere. It not like dat. Gambit will take care of you, oui, but 'e 'ave a Mistress at home 'imself."

Babette blinked up at him in confusion. Remy had just spent the last two hours feeding them and buying them things just like Trishnar would have done. She had assumed that meant Remy was filling in his shoes. "Then who will care for us?"

"You gonna take care of yo'selves," Remy replied, brushing a stray lock of brunette hair from her eyes. "You a strong bunch of kids, leavin' like you did. Dis a whole new world for you, so much to see an' explore. You don' need no Master to enjoy it."

Aiden shuddered noticeably at those words, his shine turning cloudy with a mixture of hurt and anger. He'd heard a similar phrase before, not long before he'd been horribly, terribly betrayed. Those words would never bring any comfort to this damaged Siskan, only pain and rage. Of course, Remy would know nothing of this, how could he? He really knew nothing of Aiden at all. True to form, Aiden said nothing to explain his anger but moved to the table and began to put the groceries away, his back to the thief.

Gambit stood there at a loss, not needing to see shines to sense Aiden's disturbance. What had he said to hurt the Dreamer so badly?

"A Master we must have. We are Siskan, us," Babette insisted, reclaiming Remy's attention.

"Non, chere. Gambit will set you up, provide for you, but de rest is on yo'selves, comprenez? Don' look at me like dat, it ain't so bad as you t'ink. Kimble been doin' it a long while already."

"Don' worry, Babette," Aiden said, his voice hard and tight, just like the set of his shoulders. He was looking back at her, at Remy, his green eyes glittering with unveiled pride and arrogance. "Aiden will care for you. Ze Wolv'rine already diszcussz work. Aiden will do disz. Not needin' no charity, usz. Ze money you give usz, Aiden will pay it back."

Remy stiffened, hardening up against the arrogance there. He knew these two were in for a bumpy transition, it had been a hard jolt for Kimble as well, though he'd never truly been without someone of the title Master or Mistress. These two were on their own more than anyone else.

"Fo'get de money. It don' matter. You'll be taken care of," Gambit insisted, his voice firm. "Dere ain't no need for gettin' upset. Just a few little changes to deal wit, dat's all."

Babette glanced at Aiden and the Dreamer nodded. She moved away from Remy, gliding towards Aiden and letting an invisible door slam shut behind her. Remy stepped back, feeling it. He'd just been shut out. He watched as Babette leaned against Aiden and he put his arm around her protectively. A whisper passed between them and then she moved deeper away to the couch to curl up in the blanket once again.

"We will be fine," Aiden said to Remy, finalizing this. "Do not worry about usz no more."

"I'll be around," Gambit insisted, knowing he had something to prove now. As with all Siskans, the fear of rejection was very strong. The wise thing to do was give them their space, but be a constant presence. Then they would understand. Best to leave it alone for now. He was tired enough as it was, what a trying day this had been. He placed his hands on Babette's power cubes and gave them a good charge before moving to the door. "Get some rest, Kimble will be out later."

"T'anks for ze paintsz," Aiden said, his voice softening if not his resolve. He wasn't apologetic or backpedaling, merely being polite. He was happy for the paints after all.

"Pas de quoi, cher. Enjoy dem."

"I will."

Remy nodded and slipped out, shutting the door behind him. For better or worse these Siskans were on their own.

-----------------

Remy came home to his apartment, ready for a break. Sometimes it just seemed better to be out there in the field, fighting off the bad guys and busting some heads. It was a lot less complicated than this emotional quagmire he had been trapped in for days.

He opened his door, looking for Molly and she was there, ready with a hug and a kiss. She was still taking her pregnancy hard, she was sick some days with terrible nausea and shivers. She didn't always sleep well and was often tired and drawn. Henry was doing his best to help her, but there wasn't a whole lot he could do. Today must have been a good day, Remy guessed she must have squeezed in a nap somewhere. She was bright and happy as she signed to him, **_We have company._**

"Oh? An' who is dat?"

**_Seth is here. He wasn't feeling well and he came here to crash._** **_I think maybe he had a fight with Fallen. He was more than just tired._**

Puzzled, Remy went to the guest room and sure enough, found Seth curled up on the bed, a couple of Angel's better sized teddy bears in his arms, Kimble's fat cat Princess curled up at his feet. He presented a peaceful picture, but the event of Seth coming around like this was rare enough to make Remy wonder what was really going on. He slipped into the room and sat on the bed, trying not wake the Siskan, but wanting to get a closer look at him just the same. He brushed a stray lock of white hair back from Seth's face and let slip a small sip of his power. **_/ What's goin' on wit you, fils?_**

Seth's eyes fluttered open and he smiled up at Remy, his eyes no longer red or hurting. He'd been sleeping here for a couple of hours and already felt immensely better. It was so quiet and peaceful here. Before he'd conked out, Angel had been here to hug him and offer him teddy bears. Her love was so soft and shimmering, soothing away all of his aches. He was at peace as he looked up into the eyes of the concerned and fatherly thief. "Hey."

"Hey, y'self. You all right?"

"I am now. I needed to rest, I guess."

"Fallen know where you at?"

Seth frowned a little. Here it was again, that constant thing that he belonged to someone else and not himself. "She knows."

Remy took in more than just the words. He'd caught a sip of Seth's resentment. "She love you, fils. Dere ain't no doubt."

"I know she does. She just wants me to toe the line, just like everyone else. I'm sick of it."

"What you talkin' bout? Toe what line?"

Seth explained about his new project, keeping some of the details to himself. He didn't want to reveal what he'd had planned for the thief, that he might be getting some piloting lessons in his future, but he did say how he wanted Kimble on the project and Fallen had pushed him on it. He also explained his resentment of the fact that no one had considered his request for Kimble's work release. He'd been ignored. "It's because I'm Siskan, I just know it," Seth finished with a pout, feeling small tendrils of his headache starting to return.

Sensing his pain, Remy reached out to touch him, sending out small sips of Kundatesh to soothe. Seth wasn't so startled by it this time, it was similar to when Kimble had done this and his body reacted favorably, accepting the gift and letting the pain vanish. "Nobody punishin' you 'cause you Siskan, fils," Remy was saying. "Folks 'ere jus' got a lot on dey minds. Aiden and Babette got out jus' dis mornin'. See? Dey free as you, or close enough."

"They got out?"

"Oui, fils. Dey got a place jus' down de 'all from de Lab. Now dey settlin' in proper, d'accorde? Dere ain't no conspiracy 'gainst you kids. I'm sure 'Enry's lookin' up yo' papers right now. Gonna be callin' you up later to chat about it."

Seth relaxed some, drifting away on the light clouds of Remy's vibrations of bliss and calm. Like before, Gambit's vibrations and use of power wasn't as jarring as those vibrations he felt from other people, especially those of his Mistress. It was as though Remy's vibrations were more compatible somehow. He was feeling no pain as he asked, "Do you think they'll let Kimble work with me?"

Gambit shrugged. "Don' know. Guess de real question is, what you gonna do if dey say yes. How you gonna deal wit Fallen, neh? You can't keep up dis fightin', fils. You gotta work dis out."

Seth closed his eyes and nodded. "I know. I just don't know what to say to her. It all just comes out wrong."

"Guess you best be thinkin' fast on it, fils. Yo' Mistress come callin'," Remy said, looking out the door to the hall. He'd heard the front door open and then the voices of his wife and Fallen right outside. Fallen had just arrived and was chatting with Molly as she headed towards the guest room. Moments later she was there, her eyes meeting those of the thief on the bed with her Siskan.

Seth sat up on the bed, his first thought one of gladness and not anger, something that gave Remy some hope that this lover's spat was nothing that couldn't be handled. Gambit stood as Fallen drifted to the door. "Bonjour, chere."

"Hey," she replied, her voice tired and strained. Seth may have rested, but she hadn't. She had taken off to the Dragon only to sit and stew for the last few hours. She'd thought back on what had passed between them and the reality was, the thought of not having Seth at her side was devastating. It had taken a stupid argument to realize it. What a frightening thing that terrible reality was, especially when she had gone off and found herself alone. Impossible to think of him not being around, Seth was always there, always dependable. All of her stupid pride was gone, not a faithful companion, and she was left vulnerable and alone. She had come back here, hoping to find Seth in a better mood. Even from here she could see he was better. She nodded as Remy left, giving them space.

"You okay?" Seth asked, his pale blue eyes winking up at her in the half light.

"Not really. You?"

"I slept. I'm not – I'm not so angry anymore."

Fallen came inside and sat on the bed. His arms opened for her automatically and she fell against him gratefully, squeezing tight. "Don't stay away," she mumbled, squeezing her eyes shut against tears.

"I won't," he replied, drowning in her vibrations of love and heartfelt misery. She had missed him, she loved him so. For once this empathy thing wasn't so bad.

She sniffed. "You can work with Kimble. It's all right."

She was conceding for his sake, not because she wanted this. Still wanting her to understand, he said, "He won't hurt anyone, Fallen. He's good and he's kind and he loves you. He loves anyone who would give him half a chance," Seth shifted, getting comfortable as he started to explain. "You don't know what it was like for me at first, when you first made me. It was scary this new place I found myself in. Kimble was there. He saved me, Fallen. He never got tired of my questions and offered his love to me freely. He's like my father that way, like you were my mother, and later...my Mistress."

Fallen chuckled softly, warm and safe in his embrace. "I remember how you were."

"You didn't see all of it. The sensory input, it's so violent, Fallen. It hurts. But he helped me through it. If he hadn't been there, I- I wouldn't have made it. Don't you see? It's like the young taking care of the old ones who raised them. I have to look after him now. I love him."

"I'm sorry," she replied, drowsy now.

"It's okay." He brushed her hair, loving the silky softness of it as it sifted through his fingers. He was happy now, his Mistress warm beside him, all the anger burnt away. Some of that was due to the soothing vibrations Remy had sent his way before. That and the nap had leveled him out quite nicely. "Let's go home. I'll make you supper," he said, his fingers never slowing.

She raised her head to speak, to agree, but they met in a kiss instead. Emotions running wild now, they found each other again, kissing and touching. "I'll cook fast," he offered playfully, a bit out of breath.

"We'll eat after."

Seth shivered, that hungry aching part of him wanting her badly now. The anger had been doused and now this, she was offering herself to him. How could he possibly refuse? They rose and straightened rumpled clothing, Fallen unable to hide the blush on her cheeks so she didn't even try. They came out, looking a bit abashed like young teenagers caught fooling around.

"See you kids all better now," Remy teased, leaning playfully against the refrigerator, a bottle of beer in one hand. His eyes were merry, his heightened senses making no secret of the positive way their conversation had gone. Molly was beside him, cooking supper and she smiled at them, happy to see they had worked this out.

"Thanks for letting me crash here," Seth said, reaching for his backpack.

"Anytime, cher."

Angel was on the couch and she came over to give Seth a hug. "Are you leaving now?"

He took her into his arms, holding her tight. "Yeah, but I'll see you soon."

"Bye, Uncle Seth."

"Bye, kiddo. Be good."

Angel gave Fallen a squeeze and they left. Remy stayed as he was, but his eyes lingered on the door, his mind working fast.

**_What? _**Molly asked, giving him a nudge.

Remy smiled at her, his mind working fast. "Set' been actin' funny lately. Sumptin' goin' on wit dat boy 'e ain't tellin'. Jus' tryin' to figure it out."

_**He looked tired when he got here. All used up.**_

"Been workin' on a new project. Sumptin' dat's got Kimble wrapped up in it. It causin' some tension wit' Fallen, but...but 'e been actin' funny b'fore dat. Sumptin' 'appen after we come 'ere, I'm sure of it. Damned if I know what it is."

_**Maybe he's just worried about Kimble. Or maybe it's just the air. Both of them have been all out of sorts since we got here. Hope they calm down soon.**_

"Humph. Knowin' dese boys, dey only just got started. Now we got Aiden in de mix..." Remy just shook his head, not wanting to let his mind go too far down that road. It was just too easy to imaging the kind of trouble the Siskans could conjure up. It wouldn't take him long to find out.

To be continued in Games.


End file.
